


Dashboard

by Sharkseye



Series: That's What We're Waiting For Aren't We? [3]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hunters, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkseye/pseuds/Sharkseye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean and Derek have spent a few months on the road together, Derek receives a call from Scott asking him to come back to Beacon Hills, due to a rival pack attempting to move in.<br/>Now that the couple have learned to work together, they have to figure out how to integrate themselves back--and newly--into their pack, and work around past relationships that might not be so far behind them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I can’t be blamed for nothing anymore, it's been a long time since you've been around

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't forgotten about this! It's just not been writing well, and now I'm on holidays, so I'm only going to occasionally have wifi. So, terrible as it is, this will be updated randomly and sparsely, though depending on the amount of time between updates I may update more than one chapter at a time. We'll see how it goes.
> 
> Umm, basically, the Alpha pack never happened in this verse. I haven't watched any of season 3, so no spoilers for that, and complete canon divergence. I had a bunch more to say, but I've forgotten, and will add notes as I post this thing.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

It was five months later and summer was just beginning when Derek finally heard from his pack again.  While he had had doubts at first, in that time he had actually grown accustomed to hunting, traveling from place to place with Dean and very thoroughly researching before they went after anybody.  Derek learned about and killed vampires, shifters, demons, and all other manner of supernatural creatures that he never used to know even existed, but were apparently all over America killing random people. 

One thing that was amazing was that over their time together Derek had learned to almost completely trust and rely on Dean, and vice versa was true as well.  They watched each other’s backs, hunted, fucked, ate, and traveled, falling into a routine that worked for both of them.   Cas popped in occasionally, but since deciding that he would actually act like some people thought that angels should act—helping people, healing, nice good stuff—he wasn’t there much, busy spreading miracles.  Dean seemed to be fine with this, and as Cas and Derek still didn’t really get along past the mantra of ‘protect Dean’, the werewolf was good with it as well.

As for the more emotional aspects of their relationship, Dean had only once had a flashback moment during the two of them fucking, and afterwards they stayed up the whole night while Dean told Derek about hell.  In return Derek told Dean about the fire and Kate Argent.  Unsurprisingly, they didn’t have a lot of these deeper conversations, something they both were good with, but the ones they did have really counted, important and relevant things or small comments during casual conversation.  Things that mattered and gave insight into their individual lives, meshing the two together firmly.  Their possessiveness of each other had only grown, though Derek only added a few more marks—both purposefully and not—to the collection he left on Dean’s skin.  He hadn’t knotted Dean again.  The hunter only had bad memories of being knotted, in hell and again when Derek tore him open, and the werewolf was perfectly fine with the many other creative ways they had sex.  Okay, yes, he wanted to knot Dean, but he understood why Dean didn’t want to and respected the hunter enough to not force him again.

Sam had checked in a few more times, calling Dean to chat, though the werewolf suspected the younger Winchester was checking that Dean was still alive.  Granted, Derek hadn’t exactly been the pinnacle of well mannered the last time he saw the younger hunter, but Dean was his mate, he wasn’t going to kill him, and the checkups were actually getting quite insulting.  Sam hadn’t called Dean once until he learned that the older hunter was bonded to a werewolf.  Derek even told Sam as much in different words at one point when Dean forgot his phone while out getting food, and an hour long conversation slash argument ensued.  It actually ended well all things considered, they got past Derek assuring Sam he wasn’t going to hurt his mate and ended with the younger hunter informing Derek of all the terrible fates that would befall the werewolf should he ever go back on that promise.  Derek had agreed, but almost pitied Sam while thinking about the way he had so naively accepted Dean’s lie about protecting himself from Derek the last time they saw each other.  Dean wouldn’t tell Sam about any of the times that Derek had hurt him and would only go so far in protecting himself from the werewolf.  Not that Derek would do anything that Dean needed to be protected from.  Fuck no, Dean had become practically his world.

It had gone far past the stage of wanting to leave to protect Dean from himself to just being selfish and staying.  The couple had gotten drunk one time when they went out celebrating taking out a nest of vampires terrorizing a small rural town, wolfsbane laced drinks for Derek and normal alcohol for Dean.  Derek didn’t remember much, just Dean rambling on about some codependency shit and how all his relationships involved it and how freaking messed up it was.  Again, Derek didn’t remember much about the conversation, but he kind of agreed.  They had become codependent on each other.  Derek wasn’t fucking leaving Dean ‘cause the werewolf needed to own and protect his mate, and Dean wasn’t leaving Derek because the hunter needed him.  And good times were had all around. 

But anyways, that’s why it was so disconcerting when Derek received a call from Scott one night after getting back to the motel from a simple salt and burn ghost hunt.  The Alpha werewolf couldn’t really feel his pack other than Dean because they had stayed so far away, and having to be phoned to find out that they were in trouble was not the nicest way to figure that out.  Apparently there was a large pack circling Beacon Hills, moving in right after the pack got home from their universities for summer break.  Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Alison were all there, but the invasive pack was much larger and being followed by a—also large—group of hunters.  Peter was gone somewhere, who even knew with him anymore, and Lydia and Jackson were still out holidaying.  Derek had never been so grateful for Dean and his mate bond until after Scott had hung up with a promise from Derek that he would come back, and the werewolf only had to turn to his mate before Dean was asking where they were headed. 

Derek explained what Scott had told him of the situation to Dean, but also added more about the town and the old Hale house.  He told Dean about the abandoned train depot he used to live in and the parts of his pack that were left.  He didn’t tell Dean about Stiles though.  Not yet. 

When they pulled through town and to one of the only motels there the werewolf stopped explaining anything save directions, looking around and thinking about the last time he had come back to Beacon Hills after being gone for so long. Back when Laura died.  Luckily Dean didn’t mention anything Derek had told him about Laura, filling the air with the lighter songs of Led Zeppelin and singing quietly along with them.  Derek took out his phone and sent a quick message off to Scott informing the Beta that he was just pulling in. 

“I haven’t told them you’re here yet” Derek admitted as Dean pulled into the parking lot.

The hunter nodded, a corner of his mouth quirking up. “Well, hope it goes better than you meeting Sam.”

“Allison’s the daughter of the Argents and they’re fine with her” Derek reassured, then turned to Dean with a mock contemplative look, “Then again Scott isn’t mooning over you, so we could have a problem there.”

“Does it count if you’re mooning over me?” Dean quipped without missing a beat

“I’m not _mooning_ over you” Derek protested with an irritated scowl that his mate merely laughed at. “Shut up Dean”

Continuing to chuckle, Dean shook his head and left, going into the motel office to get a room while Derek got their bags out of the impala.  Derek’s phone buzzed just as he was dropping the bags on the bed.  It was Stiles who texted back, saying that Isaac, Boyd, Erica and him were going to follow the puppy’s noses over to whichever abandoned creepy place Derek had decided to stay at this time. 

“Isaac, Boyd, Erica and Stiles are coming over.” Derek informed Dean, who was in the middle of hunting through his weapons bag for something. 

His mate nodded, biting his lip and looking up briefly before continuing to rummage around.  “Anything I should know before they get here?”

Derek pondered for a moment, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Erica can be scary, Boyd is really quiet, Isaac is probably what Stiles would call the pack puppy, and Stiles talks a lot.”

“Sounds fun.  All college kids?” Dean snorted at the werewolf’s summarization and then asked.  At Derek’s confirming nod the hunter went back to sorting through things.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked curiously, breathing in to try and get of smell of whatever was happening.  Mostly just metal and salt. 

Letting out a pleased noise, Dean stood, brandishing a box of—good job nose—salt.  Oh right, demon protection.  His mate confirmed this aloud and then walked around, salting the entrances while Derek waited.  Waited, because he wasn’t brooding.  Brooding required a dark corner, a forest, a sleazy motel…

“Me and Stiles were dating before he left for university.”  Well, that probably hadn’t been the best way to distract himself from brooding, not that he had been. 

If he hadn’t been watching his mate while he said it, Derek wouldn’t have noticed him stilling momentarily before finishing the salting.  No change in emotions came through the bond, so whatever Dean felt it wasn’t really strong. 

“Will that be a problem now?”  The words weren’t said like a threat, but sounded a little bit empty amidst the genuine concern.

“We broke up so he could leave.” Derek continued haltingly, fighting his own words as he couldn’t figure out whether to let Dean know or not.  He really liked Dean, maybe even loved him despite spending almost even waking and sleeping moment with the hunter over the past few months.  They worked well together, hunted, fought, lived.  But that had come after the bonding that neither of them agreed to, and he didn’t know what would happen if he saw Stiles again, what he would feel.  If he would find out that he still loved him.  Dean should know beforehand so he wasn’t surprised by it.  “He was going to university and we decided that he needed to explore and not be tied back here in Beacon Hills.  He had only ever dated me and was just going into his first year, he needed to experiment.” 

The blankness from Dean’s previous words had slightly seeped into the emotions coming through the bond now and Derek cursed how well Dean had learned to hide his emotions over the years, even from himself.  His mate didn’t sound upset over it, making a noncommittal noise as he put the salt back into his bag.  Belatedly Derek remembered that the emotions in the bond went both ways and wondered what his mate was picking up from him. 

Derek was saved from perhaps digging a metaphorical hole by talking more when he caught a whiff of the hauntingly familiar mixed scents of the rest of his pack.  Letting Dean know they were coming, the hunter nodded, continuing to smell slightly off for a moment before it cleared. 

“Are you nervous?” Derek inquired skeptically, deciding to move on from the Stiles topic.  That was one emotion type thing he really liked sharing with Dean.  Both of them could move away from heavy topics without any problems, blocking away thoughts in order to move ahead.

Dean let out a short bark of laugher and leaned back against the foot of the bed opposite to the wall Derek was (still not) brooding in front of.  The position the hunter had taken was one Derek recognized from when Dean was dealing with an unknown threat or was uncertain, lazy and relaxed enough to get underestimated, but with a hint of tension that screamed danger.  Shrugging the hunter bit his lip, “I’ve never done a meet the family before.”

Oh, right.  This really would be meeting the family, something Derek had done before, with Dean’s brother and angel, and before that Sheriff Stillinski.  The meeting of Kate’s family didn’t count as it mostly happened when the Argents were trying to kill him.

“Well I’m not going to baby you, but as you’re mine, you’re the Alpha mate.”  Derek smirked, deciding to tease Dean further, making his voice silky smooth.  “Or Alpha female.  But really, no pressure, after all you do fill that role so well already.”

Dean scoffed, faking offense through the amusement in his eyes and was about to reply when there was a knock on the door and Stiles’ voice shouted through, “Hey Sourwolf, we’re coming in!”

The door, which Derek had left unlocked, swung open and four sevenths of Derek’s pack burst through.  To the Alpha’s surprise they all looked extremely glad to see him, happiness alight in their eyes until they noticed Dean and became tense, Boyd pulling Stiles back from where he had been jumping forward.

“Who’s he?” Erica asked, glancing at the weapons bag and then looking back at Dean, her eyes flashing yellow as she evidently smelt the death and ozone scents that clung to Dean, the more dangerous of the smells that defined the hunter amongst the leather and whisky.

“This is Dean.  Dean, these are Erica, Stiles, Isaac and Boyd.” Derek introduced, nodding to each of them in turn.

Erica and Boyd still looked wary, but the others seemed to take Derek’s introductions as confirmation that Dean wasn’t a threat.  Derek managed to not focus on the Stiles even as the kid grinned, taking a look around the cheep motel and commenting, “I really love the place you got, it’s like a palace or something compared to where we usually find you.  Though you’ve still not learned that brooding in random places isn’t exactly socially acceptable.  Seriously, you need to understand what’s acceptable and what’s just creepy.” Stiles would’ve probably continued on in his rant, but Dean snorted in amusement and Stiles stopped, realizing that he didn’t actually know the other person in the room.  Shutting his mouth with a click, Stiles stopped talking for a moment only to jump right back out with a question.  “Oh wait, is he another werewolf?”

“No” Isaac answered for Derek, squinting at Dean in confusion and addressing the hunter.  “Are you human?”

“Do I smell human?” Dean asked back, tilting his head to the side and raising an eyebrow.  Considering Dean’s habit of head tilting Derek didn’t think it was purposeful, but the motion had only served to make him look inhuman, some creature no one knew of.  But no, the hunter was human.  Least, as human one could be after going through heaven, hell, purgatory and death itself more than once.  In addition to being an Alpha mate… Okay, no, Dean probably wasn’t human anymore.

“I think so?” Isaac responded uncertainly, glancing momentarily at Derek before looking back at Dean.  “You smell really strongly of Derek and something else like lightning, but mostly like pack.”

Isaac trailed off, waiting for Dean’s answer as Derek stopped himself from grimacing at the reminder of Cas’ scent on Dean.  The angel had rebuilt Dean’s body, his ozone smell would never go away.  Then again, now neither would Derek’s.  Even though Derek hadn’t knotted his mate again, the amount of scent marking the werewolf did would not let his scent fade off Dean anytime soon, though maybe in about fifteen years.  Give or take five. 

“I’m a hunter.”  Dean responded casually, as if that statement was normal in a room of werewolves.  To their credit none of the Betas shifted, but unease poured its way into their scents like a wave and even Stiles looked wary, glancing over at Derek as if to ask the Alpha for help.

“He’s also my mate.” Derek stated, completely innocent in the way he again avoided looking at Stiles.  An ultimately futile attempt, as the smell of distress was quick to appear, Derek only just managing to stop himself from responding or feeling the same.

He really hoped that Stiles wasn’t offended by his mating and was only feeling reminiscent sadness from fond memories.  The two of them had been quite cordial with the whole breaking up thing, and the werewolf also knew that Stiles hadn’t been waiting for him, as the kid smelt like other people in the same way Dean smelt of Derek and vice versa, though the scents were definitely not as entwined. 

“Your mate?  Alpha mate” Erica said, surprise and appreciation coloring her tone as she took Dean in, attempting to subtly check him out.  Of course Erica would think she was being subtle.

“Does that mean he can order us around?” Isaac blurted out over Erica and Derek frowned, somewhat surprised that Isaac would bring that up, he would’ve thought that Stiles would be the one to ask that.  Then again, the kid was looking like he ate something gross and didn’t want to let anyone else know.  Fuck.  Derek was going to have to talk to him. 

“Dean shouldn’t have to be giving orders, but if they’re needed, then yes.”  Derek decided, catching a slight whiff of surprise from his mate at the answer.  None of the other werewolves appeared to have caught it.  Changing the subject back to the big matter at hand, Derek asked, “When did the other pack first show up?”

“Maybe a week after we all got back for the summer.  They wanted to talk to the Alpha, but you weren’t here so their Alpha told Scott that any werewolf in Beacon Hills either had to leave or they’d kill them, ‘cause they were moving in” Erica explained, finally turning away from Dean.  Not that Derek was paying attention to the amount of attention she paid to his mate.

“It was really dramatic” And there was the return of the Stiles that Derek loved.  Had loved. “I swear, it was like that guy had planned out this huge monologue beforehand, and when I told him as much it messed up his whole script.  The dude has worse anger issues than you.”

Rolling his eyes, Derek ignored the spark of concern for Stiles facing another Alpha and snipped back a short, “Thank you Stiles.  I always need to know how melodramatic someone is before I meet them”

“You’ll thank me for it, just you wait” Stiles replied haughtily and Dean laughed, giving Derek a completely innocent look when the werewolf scowled at him.  His mate was even ganging up on him?  This really wasn’t going to be fun. 

And Stiles just had to comment on Dean’s reaction, pointing out, “See!  Even he thinks I’m funny!  Admit it sourwolf, you’ve just relapsed in appreciating humor.”

Nope, not going to be fun at all.


	2. I'd said what I'd said that I'd tell ya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm not sure when I'll get wifi again, but it was absolutely lovely to open up my email and get so many comments and kudos. All you people are awesome, and so I'm giving you two chapters today! Enjoy them well though, 'cause it could be a while before I get another one up.
> 
> I really don't know how well I characterized the pack, but I hope you like them. It's really a future fic, so everyone's matured somewhat and been to university for one year. I'm not sure if I already mentioned this, but Scott's in Derek's pack. 
> 
> With no further ado, the chapter.

Meeting Derek’s pack—and his pack now, he supposed, seeing as Derek was his mate—went well up until about an hour in when the werewolf Scott and his girlfriend Allison, who was the daughter of a large hunting family showed up.  Okay, so it wasn’t like it all went to shit, and it wasn’t _right_ after they showed up, it just blew up a little bit when Stiles very enthusiastically introduced Dean. 

Speaking of Stiles, the hunter really wasn’t sure what he should think of the young adult.  From the longing and gloom coming from Derek he knew that the werewolf still wanted and loved him, and Dean had to hide his upset reaction to that and pretend it didn’t exist.  It only highlighted the fact the neither of them had had a choice in their mating, and while Dean liked it now, maybe Derek had planned to do so with Stiles instead.  On the other hand away from jealousy and regret, Stiles actually had great dry wit and acted so amusingly sarcastic that Dean really didn’t want to avoid him.  He had a way of give and take amidst the ramblings to the pack that easily got Dean to join in.  He was almost like Garth, a friend that appeared to be a nuisance in the beginning, but one that grew on you.  Even with his announcement of Dean to Scott and Allison, the hunter still was fond of him.

“I’m never going to catch a break around all you hot people! Look!” Stiles was in the process of unnecessarily shouting at the two newcomers and then pointing at Dean, who was engaged in a conversation with Isaac by the kitchen where Stiles, Erica and Derek had been arguing over food.  Boyd had barely said a word while Stiles hadn’t stopped talking once.  “That’s Dean, he’s a hunter, he’s hot, and he’s Derek’s mate.  It’s like there’s a requirement for anyone who deals in anything supernatural has to be hot”

Scott’s reassurances for Stiles not to sell himself short were cut through by the girlfriend—Allison—freezing in place and staring at Dean. “What’s your last name?”  She asked suspiciously, completely on guard

“Winchester” Dean replied calmly.  He had pretty much hoped that no one would recognize him with the hunting reputation he had built up for himself, but from the reaction it didn’t seem like that was likely.  In a werewolf pack they generally didn’t want hunters around who had killed enough monsters almost to populate a city.

He was proven right in this conclusion by Stiles flailing and tripping over himself in his haste to back up into the wall, Allison drawing a bow from nowhere, Scott shifting, and general chaos ensuing as the werewolves who were previously present attempted to figure out what to do.  Dean’s hand was instantly on his demon killing blade, but out of respect for Derek he didn’t stand up or act threatening past body language.  Also because Derek was doing that himself, knocking Allison’s bow out of her hands and snarling at Scott as the Alpha shifted. 

“You’re mates with a Winchester?  Whaaat!” Stiles’ voice was the loudest, the kid drawing out the last word with complete incredulity. 

Doing a quick scan of the room, Dean was presented with a great mix of confusion, but it was only Allison and Scott who looked like they meant any harm.  Stiles was still flailing, but it had downgraded into rapidly shot off questions about things Dean had or hadn’t done. 

He wasn’t exactly amiable to answering some of them, but luckily didn’t have to as both their attentions were stolen by Scott shouting at Derek.  “You were pissed off at me for dating Allison for _years_ , and now you’re gone for a little while and come back _bonded_ to a hunter and think that that’s just fine?”

“Blame the hellhounds if you ever see one” Dean answered for Derek causally, narrowing his eyes.  Derek had had as much consent to their mating as much as the hunter had, which was none.  Sure, it was good now, but it wasn’t like Derek chose him, so Scott shouldn’t get angry at the Alpha for doing so.

“What?” Stiles asked, the attention on the room going from Scott to Dean.

The hunter smirked even though it wasn’t funny, replying innocently, “I hope you never find out.”

Before anyone could continue on that conversational path which led to destruction, Derek said sharply in his Alpha voice, “We’re here about the rival pack, mine and Dean’s relationship has nothing to do with that.”

“Until he burns our houses down” Scott grumbled under his breath, evidently still angry at Derek’s assumed hypocrisy.  As soon as the words were out of his mouth the entire tone of the room changed, and some of the werewolves actually stepped back.  Remembering what Derek had told him, Dean had made the quick connection to Kate Argent, and cold anger sweeping through him at the harsh reminder to his mate.  Derek himself slammed Scott backinto the wall and gone full Alpha mode, snarling softly at the Beta something that Dean didn’t quite catch, but made the younger werewolf bare his throat with a whine.  Kate Argent was one of the few people for whom Dean would willingly go back to hell for a chance to torture.  If she had still been alive he wouldn’t have even needed to visit the place to do so, just set up his tools right here on Earth.

With one last growl the Alpha dropped Scott, and Dean regretfully reflected that it wouldn’t help matters at all to be protective over Derek, no matter how much he wanted to.  Raising one eyebrow at his mate as he turned around, Dean forced himself to relax at Derek’s small shake of his head.  The motion didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the wolves, but no one overtly reacted, because the answer was negative it could be set aside for the moment.

“Well, now that everyone’s here, we should go over what we’re doing again” Stiles said loudly, clapping his hands together.  Dean bit his lip, one side of his mouth tilting upwards in amusement.  Seriously, it was like the guy let nothing dim his spirits.

“That sounds great!” Isaac agreed loudly, wincing at the volume of his voice but continuing in that same falsely cheery tone.  “Why don’t you explain the plan, Stiles?”

“Why I think that I shall,” Stiles replied, adopting a terribly posh British accent and waving the newcomers in to sit down, far away from Dean and Derek.  “So you see, our plan so far in dealing with the up and coming grand master of melodrama all relies on a curious condition that has infected five of the people currently sitting here in this very room…”

Just for kicks Dean listened with one ear to the rest of Stiles’ explanation, but mostly focused on Derek, who had wandered around Dean’s chair and stood behind it with his arms resting on the back, trailing one hand down Dean’s jaw and lightly doodling on the hunter’s neck with his claws.  Dean completely understood, knowing that Derek’s pack needed to see he was under the Alpha’s control like Sam needed to know that Derek was tamed, even if he wasn’t.  The difference here being that Derek’s pack wasn’t as trusting of Derek as Sam was of Dean, and so needed a more obvious show of Derek’s dominance over the hunter.  With this in mind Dean tilted his head, exposing his neck to Derek’s claws but subtly changing his body language to make it known that Derek was the only one he would do so for.  Dean belonged to and loved—scratch that, _liked_ damn it!—Derek and would submit to him, but he only knew these other werewolves from word of mouth, which meant that he wouldn’t even slightly relax his guard while around them.  The obvious show seemed to supplicate Scott for now, and everyone turned to look at Stiles as he talked.

The young adult continued his dramatized outlay of their plan and Dean thought over it in his head, wondering if it should really even be called a plan.  They were going to send Derek, Scott, Erica and Boyd out to meet with the other werewolf pack, with the rest—minus Allison—circling around the other pack just far enough behind them to not immediately be noticed.  Allison would be following closer behind their pack, traveling in the trees with her bow to provide air support.  The other pack would inevitably attack,—a rhyme to make Stiles proud—and Stiles, Isaac, and Dean would majestically leap out of the forest to rain destruction down upon the unsuspected rival pack. These last ones were Stiles’ words, not Dean’s. 

Anyways, their pack would go after the hunters later if they stayed while the other pack they were following was gone, which was pretty much a given.  That part would be easy, as there were the same amount of hunters to werewolves and Dean had no problem killing them too if it meant protecting one—or more—of his own.  Yes, as a hunter Dean was all about saving people from the monsters and only going after said monsters, but humans could be monsters too.  While usually he would leave such people to the authorities who actually dealt with that kind of thing, if they went after Sam, Cas, and now Derek, they were free game.

The pack had also formed off into pairs to watch each others backs, Dean and Derek, Scott and Allison, Isaac and Stiles, Erica and Boyd.  They would kill all of their rivals who they could get at, and let those who ran leave.  Something Dean wasn’t too happy about, but had accepted because he wasn’t going to let any of them run.  Dean had gotten quite lax around Derek and his wolves, but he was a hunter and certain instincts and lessons had been drilled into him since he was four.  Apparently the lesson to not sleep with supernatural creatures and submit to them hadn’t stuck because it was kind of supposed to be common sense, but hey, one couldn’t have everything. 

 

 

Not much changed with the plan in the two hours that the pack stayed afterwards, just a couple ideas about what who would bring to the fight and how they’ work.  To Dean’s surprise there was little arguing once Stiles dropped the act and made it clear that most of the ideas were his.  Probably because Scott had only started to argue in order to go against Derek.  When everyone was packing up to leave Erica suggested a movie night at Stiles’ place and invited them all to the young adult’s house without any forewarned approval from Stiles himself.  The Beta merely laughed when Stiles pointed this out, telling him that he would’ve done it anyways and that she was just saving him the trouble.  Needless to say, Stiles accepted defeat and confirmed the offer, mock disapprovingly mentioning that the pack would’ve just showed up anyways.  And any hostilities were put to the backburner instead of being yelled out during the ultimately half hour long farewells, although Scott scowled untrustingly at Dean and Allison rarely took her eyes off of him. 

Dean was just finishing up a lively and entertaining conversation with Boyd that had lasted five minutes and contained all of twenty words when Stiles addressed him singularly for the first time since the two had met. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Stiles’ asked the hunter and he nodded yes.  Stiles continued to look jittery however, glancing at the werewolves and then adding, “Away from where they can all hear us but pretend not to?”

Dean laughed, saying bye to Boyd and then following Stiles’ lead out of the motel room and across the road, adding onto Stiles’ comment with a sarcastic “They’re _so_ subtle at it”

“I know! I mean, the furtive glances, lack of conversation and tilted heads aren’t suspicious at all” Stiles agreed.  “I myself quite often will stop in the middle of a conversation with someone and stare really hard at another person who looks like they’re having a private conversation.  It’s a common and everyday occurrence.”

Once they had stopped far enough away that neither of them thought the werewolves would be able to hear them anymore, Stiles also stopped in his rambling.  In response to this Dean turned to Stiles, tilting his head in question.  “So why are we out here?”

“Well, it’s a really nice evening, and I thought I’d like to talk to you about Derek, because like, I know he’s your mate and everything, but he’s been here a whole heck of a lot longer than he’s known you and he barely trusts any of us, unless of course, he knew you before he left, which I doubt.  And not that I have any claim to him or anything, and there’s no reason to kill me if you’re really protective about that and because you’re a hunter, but Derek has massive trust issues, like, massive.  They could probably have sunk the titanic without the help of the iceberg, just the weight of them.  He barely trusts us most times, and he only trusted me after knowing me for years.  I mean, swimming pools and kanimas man!  He has trust issues that would sink the titanic in a swimming pool” Stiles rambled, getting more flustered as he went on without saying his point or making sense.  He seemed to notice Dean’s incredulity and trailed off only to get right back into rambling.  “That’s actually a really apt metaphor, and I would totally get more into detail, but I don’t think you’d like metaphors.  Not that you don’t look like you don’t like metaphors!  Just that the-”

“Stiles.”  Dean interrupted, lifting his head back up when he realized how far it had tilted.  “Breath a little bit and then say what you want to say.”

Stiles looked frantic for a few seconds before he shook himself and stood up taller, looking serious but still fidgeting.  “You said to blame the hellhounds when Scott was freaking out at Derek about you being a hunter.  So can you honestly tell me that there were no other circumstances to you two becoming mates beyond what you guys choose?”

Dean bit his lip thoughtfully, wondering how much to say.  “How much do you know about how werewolves mate?”

A flash of suppressed hurt went across Stiles face and he shrugged, answering, “Quite a bit.”

And there was confirmation to Dean’s theory that Derek and Stiles would’ve become mates.  Well shit.  Forcing himself to keep calm so Derek didn’t notice anything was wrong, Dean asked “And how much do you know about hellhounds?”

“Nothing?” Stiles replied, probably unintentionally turning the answer into a question.  The kid really did look uncertain and upset about Dean and Derek being together though he tried unsuccessfully to hide it.  The whole thing really was fucked up, Dean reflected.  Derek’s pack may have left him, but he totally had people who would’ve come back for the guy.  Well, one person.   Just like Dean had Cas, even though he didn’t now because the angel was off being responsible.  The hunter was probably being selfish, but Dean was so glad that _he_ got to keep Derek.  They didn’t have the best start, but Derek was family now, tied as close to the hunter as Cas was even forgetting their bonds. 

Nevertheless Dean nodded, tilting his head again.  Well, might as well say it.  Sam would kill Derek if he knew, but Dean really doubted Stiles would do the same.  “You can’t tell anyone else until you’ve talked to Derek and he’s told you if you can, but considering what he’s told me about you and what I’ve figured out I think you should know.”  Dean waited until Stiles nodded apprehensively before continuing.  “We were fucking around beforehand, but our mating wasn’t consensual for either of us.  Apparently when a hellhound bites a werewolf they go feral.”

At this piece of information Stiles looked horrified, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.  After a few minutes of this and not knowing if there was anything else Stiles wanted to say, Dean commented, “You’re catching flies”

Stiles’ mouth closed with a snap, though silence only reigned for a second before he exclaimed, “But you have to be knotted to become a werewolf’s mate, if he, did- why the hell is Derek still alive? You’re Dean Winchester! You’ve no idea the things I’ve researched about you when I was looking around at well known hunters.  You like, you kill things!  Everything! Things that don’t exist! And if Derek- just, what?”

Dean shrugged, uncomfortable both with Stiles line of questioning and the fact that the guy had actually been able to research him under ‘well known hunter’.  Hopefully he had to dig a little deeper than that.  “We worked with it.  I didn’t want to kill him then and I trust him now.”

Still looking freaked, and Dean supposed that that made more sense than his own reaction had been to the events; Stiles seemed to brace himself before stating, “So you’re not going to hurt him then.”

Instantly understanding Dean realized aloud, “This is one of those conversations where you tell me not to hurt him or they’ll never find the body”

“Well it was going to be” Stiles admitted, still slightly pale and glancing back at the motel.  Turning back to Dean he grimaced, “But it’s kind of hard to have that type of conversation when you’ve practically just told me that Derek was made to go feral and then raped you.” Dean flinched minutely at the blunt way Stiles put it, but the guy had enough tack to pretend not to notice, drawing himself up again and continuing, “Nonetheless, you still aren’t allowed to hurt him, no matter what happens.  ‘Cause you haven’t given me a real reason as to why you haven’t and so I don’t know if you’re going to.  Plus, Isaac said that you smelt like death when Scott said you were going to burn us and all the werewolves around you flinched, ‘cause you were being really scary.  And if you can do that just by smelling slightly different without even really moving, you could like, easily kill Derek and leave.  Especially with what Derek did to you, because none of the hunters I’ve met have been that forgiving.”

Huffing inaudibly, Dean straightened, Stiles flinching back and then flailing at Dean’s incredulous face.  Breaking into his protests about just how scary Dean was, the hunter said, “Firstly, Derek didn’t want it either, I don’t blame him, and that’s the end of that part of the conversation.  Secondly and more importantly to your question, Derek has had his pack for quite a few years, he told me you and a few others were there since the beginning, so yes, you probably know a lot about hunters by now.  Especially how adverse we are to becoming the creatures we hunt, peaceful or not.  Right?”

“Well ya, Allison’s mom killed herself rather than become a werewolf.”  Stiles replied, thankfully dropping the previous topic and the distain in his words very noticeable.  “But what’s that have to do with you not hurting Derek?”

Well, Dean couldn’t say much against that considering he had been ready to die after becoming a vampire, but the two types of creature were loads different, especially the kind of werewolf that the Beacon Hills pack were.  He wouldn’t have become suicidal if the bite Derek gave him actually had taken, though he wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t glad it hadn’t.  Dean was perfectly pleased with being Alpha mate, but he didn’t want to become a werewolf.  “I’m not going to kill Derek and I don’t know what to say to convince you that I won’t.  We’ve already been through quite a bit and I haven’t hurt him and have no intentions of ever doing so.”

Twisting his head to the side and slightly pulling his jacket down to better show the bite scar on the back of his neck, Dean ignored Stiles’ jump of surprise and continued “Derek bit me when we became mates, because of where we were it didn’t take.  I didn’t retaliate.” He released his jacket and turned back to Stiles.  “I’m not saying I’m a saint because I sure as hell know that I’m not, I’ve killed enough things to completely destroy that title here, but you can ask him if you want.  I have not and will not hurt Derek, and I won’t kill him no matter what happens.”

Stiles just looked amazed, saying slowly, “So neither of you wanted to mate and yet you’re both still alive and working with it.”

Mixing a shrug with a nod, Dean noticed how lost Stiles was as he processed the new information.  Deciding to hurry it along and ignoring the sharp pang of hurt that came with the thought because that ventured into chick flick territory, Dean added, “If it’s any consolation, by the way he talks about you and if he’d had a choice, he would’ve chosen you.”

Dean’s admittance only seemed to serve to confuse Stiles further, this time in a different direction as the young adult looked a mix between calming and hurt, staring at Dean with something akin to pity in his eyes. 

Dean’s own eyes narrowed, but luckily before he got the chance to get pissed off about Stiles pitying him for whatever reason, the motel room door slammed open across the lot and Scott walked out, yelling, “Stiles! Are you still alive?”

“Nope, I died!” Stiles yelled back, the sarcastic words coming automatically. 

“Oh” Scott replied slightly quieter, though still yelling, noting where Stiles and Dean were standing and wandering over.

“Don’t sound so excited.” Stiles grumbled under his breath, glancing back at Dean.  He still looked slightly upset, but this time Dean knew it was over what the hunter had said.  At least the fucking pity had mostly left his face.  Dean didn’t know what that had been about, but he didn’t want any of it.

Scott jogged the rest of the way over, glancing at Dean and shrugging slightly with an abashed face before addressing the hunter.  “Just so you know, I really don’t have any problem with you, it’s just Derek was always upset over me dating Allison and then came back with you.  It’s irritating that he’s being hypocritical” 

Turning to Scott and masking the emotions of the previous conversation, Dean flashed a grin and replied, “I won’t hold it against you” _though if you knew the truth and still blamed him I would._

“Great” Scott smiled back, but looked between Stiles and Dean with innocent suspicion. “What were you two talking about?”

Stiles answered this time, leading the three of them back to the motel. “The joys of being a werewolf mate.  Did you know that you have a knot on your dick?”  If Scott had been drinking he would’ve spat it all out, but as it was he just stumbled, catching himself right before face planting and looking the least coordinated Dean had ever seen a werewolf be. It was really annoying how amusing it was to be around Stiles, as it made it so hard to dislike him for Derek loving him.  Stiles grinned gleefully, continuing, “You’ve no idea how much research and messed up fanfiction there is on it, but you should probably know in case you ever decide to permanently keep Allison around.  Otherwise it’d get awkward, and oh dear, I really didn’t need to think of that.  Damn it, my distraction techniques have backfired on me and I never want to think about you and Allison having sex ever again.”

Stiles looked suitably disgruntled by this thought, his face scrunched up as he stopped talking.  Scott filled the silence frantically, “Please tell me you’re joking!”

“He’s not” Dean replied for Stiles,—who was still looking scandalized at the though of Scott having sex—casually opening the door and smirking at the Beta.  One of the great ways to deal with traumatizing stuff aloud was by joking and smiling about it.  Much better than curling up in ball and rocking back and forth as he recalled hell.  Which only really happened when Dean thought about knotting in detail, but still, nicer to be safe than sorry.  Well, for right now at least.  Dean had actually been thinking about it, and he kind of wanted to try knotting again with Derek, just so he actually had some good experiences with the sex act.  However long that would take for him not to have a hell flashback in the process, ‘cause something like that really ruined the mood.

If Dean’s scent changed Scott didn’t seem to notice, staring at the hunter with amazement for a second before bursting back into the motel and shouting at Derek, “Why have you never told me that werewolves have-”

Though the results of that outburst could’ve been funny, Stiles slapped a hand over his friend’s mouth and reminded him, “I’m sure they all heard us, no reason to take a page from my book.”

Looking around, Dean couldn’t shut away his smirk as he took in the scandalized and—in Erica’s case—fascinated looks on the wolves faces.  Oh the joys of innocence. 

“And I’m not having that conversation with you here or now” Derek told Scott, glaring at Dean in betrayal.  The hunter held up his hands in a ‘your problem now’ expression and Derek narrowed his eyes, pushing emotions through their bond that promised retribution. 

“Yup, no worries, we’re all leaving.  I really kind of want to be there just for the look on Scott’s face ring that conversation, yet I really don’t at the same time because it’s Scott, and I’ve scared myself enough for one day.” Stiles contradicted himself, mock saluting and dragging Scott out of the motel, the others slinking out behind them. 

As soon as the last person was out of the room Dean found himself forcibly turned around to face Derek and slammed back into the motel wall hard enough that the plaster creaked.  “Why the hell did you tell Scott? I wasn’t going to need to have that conversation for years!

Dean laughed, reminding, “You heard Stiles, things could get awkward if they don’t know”


	3. My friends, my habits, my family, they mean so much to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darn you smut! I don’t even write that type of stuff, but apparently in this series I often do. What the heck. Also, I’ve no idea where this whole chapter came from. I was writing it, and then all of a sudden, scars! And as for the one you people don’t know about yet, I’m probably—read, definitely—going to write a one shot about that, because certain types of scarification are awesome. Just saying… 
> 
> This has a really bad editing job because I didn't expect to get to a Starbucks today, so please attempt to work through it if it's too bad. 
> 
> Another note! For anyone who really likes Superwolf, go read Roamers on this website. It's really long, is gen and is a WIP,--actually getting written--but it's fantastic. Really great and all those things, though it's left off at a terribly mean oblivious cliff hanger right now. So ya, go read....

“Fuck you Winchester.  Why do I have to be the responsible one?” Derek announced the question.  Dean opened his mouth to give rebuttal, but Derek shut him up with a kiss, thoroughly ravaging Dean’s mouth and pressing his body flush against the hunter’s.  Dean instantly surrendered to him and Derek growled his pleasure, softening the kiss for a second before pulling back.  Now that Dean was submitting he could ask, “Why the hell were you even talking about knotting in the first place?  You hate doing that”

“Stiles didn’t trust me and wanted to know if our mating was consensual, and then tried to give me the protective older brother speech.  And I don’t hate knotting, it just scars the hell out of me that I’m going to have a hell flashback” Dean replied instantly, looking slightly surprised at his own words.  Belatedly Derek realized that his eyes were red and that he had just ordered Dean with his Alpha voice, forcing the hunter to give an answer.  Dean evidently came to this conclusion as well, tilting his head to the side in contemplation and frowning.

And wait, what? “What did you tell him?”  Derek asked, still using the Alpha voice because it was Stiles and Derek had a fucking right to know.

“That neither of us originally wanted it and you would choose him if you had a choice, and I won’t ever hurt you” And curiosity killed the werewolf, Derek actually _hadn’t_ wanted to know.  Rhetoric beating of an already dead werewolf with the resignation that colored the words.

Dean seemed intent on stopping this line of questioning, and he surged up off the wall, pulling Derek into a harsh and biting kiss.  The Alpha attempted to pull back again to carry the conversation further, but then Dean’s hand somehow snuck into the front of his jeans and the words turned into a strangled moan, captured by Dean’s lips.  Well this was peachy, if Dean wanted to distract Derek with sex, then they were doing it his way.  That kind of forewent the obviousness that they always went at it his way, but hey, Derek could still use that as a threat in the mockingless safety of his mind. 

His mind where their bond was, previously having very clearly shown Dean’s hurt during the conversation with Stiles and now Derek before it was swallowed up by that blankness that the hunter hid behind.  That coupled with the lack of lie in Dean’s previous words, Derek distantly thought as Dean moved his hand further down to fondle the werewolf’s balls, confirmed Dean’s plan for distraction around the whole feelings topic.  The hunter was really resigned into believing that Derek wanted Stiles, maybe even though he wanted the kid more than Dean.  It would certainly explain the amount of blankness that had covered Dean’s emotions over the past day since meeting Stiles and feeling how Derek felt while talking about him.  Admittedly, Derek wasn’t exactly one for emotional topic conversations either, but he supposed he could use actions to show Dean that he was wanted.  Less of the mushy talk that they both so abhorred. 

Decidedly determined in this course of action but needing to know some things first, Derek pulled completely away from Dean, almost moving back with the loss of the delicious friction that Dean knew exactly how to provide.  “You think that I would choose Stiles as a mate over you?”

Dean scowled at the continued use of Alpha demands and answered a quick, “Obviously.  Neither of us wanted this in the first place, you did have Stiles to come back to.”

Well that was just great.  Dean really believed that, and Derek was terrible with words to convince him otherwise.  “And do you want the bond now?”

“Yes” Came the affirmative reply. 

The hunter moved forwards to try and distract Derek again, but the werewolf held up a hand in classic stop position, growling, “Clothes, off.”

The demand wiped the scowl from Dean’s face and the hunter complied, taking off his shirt and pants, drawing it out like a strip tease.  As the hunter stripped, Derek tucked himself back away, ignoring the confusion and wariness coming through their bond and standing back to wait.  When Dean was fully naked the werewolf continued to just watch him, running his eyes over the hunter’s semi hard cock and bare body. 

Self consciousness joined the jumble in the bond, but from Dean’s posture and smirk you’d have to know him well to see it.  Not that the hunter had anything to be self conscious about, he was absolutely gorgeous. 

“Stay still” Derek murmured, finally stepping forward again and reaching out to softly brush his hand over Dean’s possession tattoo, lightly running his fingers over the scars that surrounded it and mapping Dean out with his eyes.  Dean had so many scars, less apparently after Castiel had rebuilt his body, but still far more than Derek due to his werewolf healing, and Derek traced every one, naming the ones that were recognizable in his head and lightly asking Dean what the other ones were from.  The ones he knew he left for last.

The first one that he asked of, a curved scratch that ran along Dean’s upper ribs, was from a ghoul.  When prodded further, he also revealed that he had gotten it shortly after getting out of hell, not yet knowing about the apocalypse.  Probably due to the instinctive submission, but from then on Dean gave more information with the scars Derek traced over, not needing any prompting to talk and give detail, though the uncertainty became palpable in his voice as he did so.  The list was amazing, one on his chest from a ghoul, a creeping one up his thigh from vampire, three on his wrist from a werewolf, a corner shaped one on his back from angel mojo only a couple years previously, it went on.  Even greater than the list of known scars were the forgotten ones, parts of Dean that even he had forgotten and Derek would never be able to catalogue. 

When all the scars that Derek didn’t know had been gone over, the werewolf moved so that he was pressing slightly against Dean’s back, fully clothed against the hunter’s naked skin.  Extending his claws and resting his hands on Dean’s hips over the multitude of puncture marks that had come to permanently adorn his mate, Derek waited. 

Dean paused for a few seconds, but still answered. “You gave and continue to give me those when you fuck me while shifted, for the past six months.”  Opening his mouth and letting his teeth shift into fangs, Derek gently took hold of the back of Dean’s neck, directly over the bite mark he had left there.  Dean pushed back into Derek’s teeth as he said, “You bit me in the corridor to purgatory when we became mates, five months ago.” 

Derek had been avoiding the last three scars, but now he released the back of Dean’s neck to stand away from Dean so that he could almost see two of them.  The first he fully uncovered when he used one hand to spread Dean’s ass cheeks, letting his claws shift away as he pressed his unlubed thumb into Dean up to the first knuckle, stretching the hunters rim slightly so that the old tear marks starbursting from Dean’s hole were thrown into sharper relief.  He had no idea what he was doing, but suddenly it became so important that he get things right, that he acknowledge everything.

Now Dean didn’t speak, and Derek asked the same question from the beginning as a prompting, “How did you get the scars here?”

Derek slowly pressed his thumb in further until he was completely inside Dean and the hunter finally answered, his voice quiet and touched with nerves.  “You gave me those when you knotted me in the corridor to purgatory, five months ago.”  Letting out a breath, Derek stayed inside Dean for a few more seconds before pulling out and moving his hand away to the second last scar.  Though he was still scared of the being that gave Dean the scar, Derek nevertheless brushed over the handprint on Dean’s arm, letting it rest slightly off of the mark there.  Though he hesitated again, this time Dean didn’t need any more prompting.  “Castiel burned that into me when he pulled me from hell, four years ago.”

And now the last and newest scar.  Derek moved one hand around to the front of Dean’s hip, in a mirror of the place where Derek’s anti-possession tattoo was and where a scarified triskelion now lay.  Dean didn’t hesitate in naming it.  “You carved that into me because I wanted another mark to prove I’m yours and proud of it, two months ago.”

Once again closing the distance between them, Derek wrapped his arms around Dean so that he was still touching the newer triskelion scar, resting his chin on his mate’s shoulder and speaking softly into his ear.  Derek continued to have no idea what he was doing beyond trying to fix things without too much talking, and he was determined to get it right.  

“I didn’t pull you from hell, I’m not related to you, and I’ve never done anything to deserve the amount of trust you give me.  I am an Alpha werewolf and you are a hunter.  By all rights our relationship shouldn’t work, it even started because I raped you.  We have a codependent relationship in which I order you around and you follow my commands even if you don’t want to, we have enough problems together to retire ten therapists.” Dean shifted in his arms and Derek could tell the hunter was about to protest, but he quickly spun Dean around, pressing forward until their foreheads were touching and continuing to speak.  “Quiet, let me finish.  At one point in my life, I thought that I would become mates with Stiles.  Had you asked me five months ago whether or not I would’ve chosen Stiles over you, I probably would have.

“So yes, I’m still quite fond of Stiles and he’s still a really good friend of mine.  But I love _you_.  The past four months I would’ve chosen _you_ and from now on I will _always_ choose you.” Derek hissed at a wide eyed Dean, slapping his hand over the triskelion.  “You are mine, you’ve willingly given yourself to me and let yourself be used for my pleasure even at the expense of your own.  I will continue to hurt you, I will continue to make mistakes, but you are my constant, my anchor that keeps me human and the only person who has proven time and time again, even when I didn’t deserve it, that you will stay with me.  I fucking love you Dean.”

By the end of his tirade Derek was panting slightly, having not said so much in a very long time.  Dean on the other hand was completely silent, amazement boldly written across his face as he gaped at Derek.  Then joy exploded through the bond and Dean blurted, “I love you too.  I tried to tell myself I didn’t, but I really do.”

Grinning, Derek closed the last inch of distance between them to kiss Dean, hot and passionately demanding and gaining entrance to hunter’s mouth.  Walking Dean backwards, Derek pushed the hunter down on the bed, straddling his legs and taking his cock into Derek’s mouth.  Dean curled his fingers into Derek’s hair and the werewolf let him, reaching up and pressing two fingers to the hunter’s lips.  Instantly knowing what to do, Dean started sucking on them, Derek fucking them in and out with the same rhythm he was bobbing on Dean with. 

When the werewolf judged his fingers to be wet enough, he pulled them out of the hunter’s mouth and reached down to circle Dean’s hole, immediately pressing one finger fully inside.  Loving the groan he got for it, Derek quickly pushed the second finger in and prodded around until he found Dean’s prostrate, the hunter bucking up and almost choking Derek.  Relaxing his throat, Derek continued to stretch the hunter and massage his prostrate, turning his mate into an incoherent mess of pleasure.  When Derek felt Dean’s balls drawing up and knew the hunter was about to come, he pulled away fully, smirking at the wordless whine of rotes the received for that inaction. 

Dean blinked hazily, pleading, “Derek, please!”

Chuckling softly, but not wanting to be overtly mean, Derek pressed his fingers back into Dean’s ass and roughly stroked his prostrate, giving Dean an order to come, which the hunter immediately followed, shooting his load all over his chest with a groan while Derek continued to prod at him until he was squirming away from oversensitivity. 

Normally at this point Derek would clean up by making Dean suck his come off of the werewolf’s fingers, but this time he leaned over and licked the come off himself, cleaning Dean with his tongue and tracing the scars he had gotten the hunter to name a moderate amount of minutes previously.  Once he was finished, Derek crawled up Dean’s body, straddling the hunter’s chest and grabbing himself, pushing the head of his cock into Dean’s mouth and quickly stroking himself off.  The hunter grinned around Derek’s cock, suckling lightly and then swallowing down Derek’s release when the werewolf reached it. 

Now sated, the werewolf rolled himself off Dean, curling into his side and kissing the hunter until they both were breathless.  “Sleep” Derek murmured softly, once agains stroking the triskelion scar that marked Dean as his. 

Back in Beacon Hills, having just spoken with his pack, set up a time for (not called) puppy piles, loved and fucked his mate, and Derek was happy.  Content. 

 

~*~

 

Dean could tell Derek had fallen asleep beside the hunter, the werewolf always becoming really tired after having sex.  While Dean was the same way, his mind was now racing far too fast to just drop off.  To add to the mushy moment that Dean and Derek had been having over Dean’s scars, the hunter was also having a little mental freak out. 

Dean loved Derek, and Derek loved him back.  Things like that just didn’t happen.  The werewolf had said that after getting to know Dean he had come to love the hunter, but usually after people spent time with him they ran fast the other way.  Dean had slept with lots of people, had become allies and temporary friends with lots of people, but the amount of people who had loved him—and knew all of him, the worst parts included—could be counted on one hand.  The amount of still living ones was even smaller.  So having Derek say he loved the hunter, and the magnitude of feeling that poured through the bond to give truth to that was just awe striking. 

Possibly even scarier than the fact that Derek loved Dean however, was the truth of the vice versa.  Dean had been scratching out love from his thoughts every time it accidently popped up there for quite a while, and with Derek’s grand declaration it had just come bursting out.  He really fucking loved Derek.  Which meant that there were now three people who were currently alive whom Dean loved.  Sammy, Cas, and Derek.  Which also meant that there were three people currently alive whom Dean would do anything for.  He wasn’t stupid, he knew that he had huge flaws and was completely unhealthy with the depth of his feeling for people he loved, but he couldn’t change his habit of falling into codependent relationships. 

Just like Derek was so vocally possessive of Dean, the hunter himself thought of those three people he loved as _his_.  His to love, to protect, to stand beside, they were his biggest weaknesses and his reasons for being alive.  In hell often the worst tortures had been seeing Sam, Dad and all the important people in Dean’s life being tortured while the hunter was helpless to stop it.  He knew they hadn’t actually been in hell with him, but the emotional pain of it had been eventually what broke him in the end.  And now there were three people who he would give up the world for.  Dean almost laughed aloud at the thought.  If anyone—Dad, Bobby, Sam, Ellen, etc—knew just what Dean would do for a werewolf, a ‘monster’, they would shoot him just on principle.  What they would think really didn’t matter to Dean though, he had Derek now, and he was fucking happy about.

So yes, Dean knew he loved Derek.  Had the werewolf just said that he loved Dean, the words would definitely have been suspect, not believed simply because they were so unbelievable.  But the scars…  No one had ever taken the time to learn Dean’s body like Derek had.  To ask about the scars that Dean did know and the ones he didn’t.  All of them that he was slowly regaining since leaving hell.  Even the ones Derek had caused himself and ones Dean hadn’t known about.  Granted, Dean knew about the bite mark on his neck, the triskelion he so loved, the tears on his hips, but he hadn’t realized that the knotting had left scars.  Of course Derek would know, but Dean had had no idea. 

Which just brought up another point in the jumble of thoughts going through Dean’s head so late at night.  Knotting.  Like he had thought previously, Dean wanted to try it when it was supposed to feel good.  He had only ever been knotted through rape, in hell and when Derek was feral, but he didn’t want to be afraid of it forever.  It was how werewolves became mates, so it wasn’t like it was a terrible thing, and Dean was mated to a werewolf, so therefore should know what it was like further than just pain and lots of screaming.  Derek had felt a flash of sadness when he said that Dean hated knotting, so the werewolf obviously wanted to do it again.  And Dean loved him, so it wouldn’t be such a huge sacrifice to actually try it out of the relative safety of just thinking ‘maybe’.  Dean could talk to his mate about it beforehand, and then they could attempt to get through without any flashback and with _lots_ of lube.  Buckets of it.  Because yes, Dean liked rough, razor blade edge of painful sex that he couldn’t walk normally for days after having, but with knotting he didn’t want to hurt at all.  They were going to go after the rival pack tomorrow, and the hunters a day or two after, but after that Dean could mention knotting.  It would be fine. 

Dean flicked his eyes open to watch Derek sleeping, running a thumb over the side of his relaxed face.  Derek had told Dean that he would hurt the hunter again, and Dean wasn’t stupid enough to think that that wasn’t true, but he wasn’t worried he couldn’t take it.  Unless of course, Dean thought, his hand pausing in its travels over Derek’s face, the werewolf left him.  Bringing him back to the worries of his first and second points that were keeping him awake.  Dean had survived Sam leaving him because he had needed to get Cas out of purgatory, he had dealt with Cas leaving him because he had Derek, but if Derek left him, Dean was almost positive he would throw in the towel.  Because of the deal he made with Azriel for a weapon from void, Dean wouldn’t be going back to hell and instead to void, whatever that was like.  Hopefully the oblivion description was right, Dean would have to ask Cas.  It couldn’t be worse than hell, right?  Well, Derek had the choice to go with him, which was kind of interesting, but surely even if the werewolf left Dean he would still choose void over purgatory.  But the werewolf wouldn’t leave Dean, they were bonded, and Derek loved him.

Still just sitting there and tracing his mate’s face, Dean felt a rush of love for the man sleeping so soundly beside him, his perfect mate.  Actually slipping off to sleep now, Dean thought distantly, fucking chick flick moments, the past half hour of thinking would never be allowed to see the light or else he would need to go out and start buying nail polish to bring to Sam’s white picket house.  Nevertheless, before Dean drifted off he wrapped himself closer around Derek, placing a light kiss on the werewolf’s lips and closing his eyes.  He was getting so fucking girly, but sleeping here beside Derek, he didn’t regret it one bit.


	4. Worst of all I laid it out so you could take it out of context anyway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the amount of time in between postings! We got to the campground that we actually stay at, and it doesn't have electricity or wifi, so I had to wait until I could bring my laptop into Yachats or Newport, neither of which we go to very often. But anywho, here are two new chapters.

Dean actually woke up at an acceptable rate—if not time—the next morning, one second asleep and the next fully awake—if not willingly.  There weren’t any threats to be found, but it was just nice to know that Dean’s hunter instincts hadn’t completely deserted him.  Derek was still asleep and wrapped around Dean, but with some skillful maneuvering and calming shushing that Dean would never admit to making, he managed to extract himself, once again comparing Derek to an octopus.  But things had gotten really weird since that last time after the second night they slept together.  Ignoring all that, things had also gotten really weird since the day before the current one.  They were going after the other werewolf pack today and Derek had spent the last night going over all of Dean’s scars and turning them both into emotionally mushy potatoes, so Dean needed to go get some breakfast so he could ponder in peace.  It was unreasonably seven o’clock and they were going after the pack at around eleven, so he had quite a bit of deep thought time.  Thought time and time to go and get food.

When he found a little diner named Caroline’s he briefly wondered if he should’ve left a note on where he went, but focusing on the calm bond for a second, Dean quickly dismissed the idea.  Oh, sorry, the bond _s_.  Dean had been too busy freaking out about loving Derek the night before to focus on anything else, but now that that had been put on the backburner he could move on to think—freak out about—the bonds, though hopefully this processing time would be shorter.  Dean didn’t know a lot about this type of werewolf past what Derek had told him and what he needed to kill them, but he knew that all the members of a pack could feel the others to a certain extent.  Before Dean hadn’t been included in this awareness, but now that he had actually met the rest of the pack he could actually _feel_ them.  It wasn’t as all consuming as the bond between him and Derek, just a general knowledge that they were alive.  Stiles, Isaac, Scott, Allison, Erica, and Boyd.  Then there were three other smaller ones that Dean assumed were of the other parts of the pack that he hadn’t met yet,—Lydia, Jackson and Peter, he thought their names were. 

It was really fucking weird.  Like, what the hell?  Surprisingly enough Dean hadn’t been that concerned with Derek’s werewolf status previously, having worked past that practically as soon as he found out the guy occasionally had red eyes, fangs, and fur, but with a whole pack of them he was being forced to slowly reevaluate his opinions.  He was part of a pack of creatures he had killed all of his life.  Furthermore, he was Alpha mate in a pack of creatures he had killed all of his life.  Granted, these ones were completely innocent and seemed pretty awesome, but it was the freaking logistics of the whole thing.  At this point he almost wanted to call Sam to complain, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to not know how badly _that_ would end.

By the time he had gotten his food—mouth-watering pancakes—Dean was no closer to figuring out what the hell he was doing but _had_ narrowed it down to, ‘Who the fuck cares, this is Derek’s pack, Derek trusts them, I trust Derek.  No killing is needed and freak outs can be postponed indefinitely because I’m not staying with them.’  If he didn’t say so himself, it was quite good reasoning.

Saved from having to go insane from any more of his metal conversations and pathetic attempts at excusing himself for something he had already decided didn’t need to be excused, a voice called his name directly behind him and Dean turned to recognize Stiles, who looked far too cheery to be awake at the current time. 

Proving that since Dean’s brain hadn’t processed a threat yet it wasn’t awake, his first words in reply were, “Why the hell are you so happy at seven in the damn morning?” Realizing that this might not be acceptable because he didn’t really know Stiles and wasn’t sure if there was supposed to be animosity between them about Derek, Dean continued in a more pleasant tone, “Sorry, I’m not awake yet.”

Stiles looked surprised but not upset, grinning as he asked, “Not a morning person?”

“Only when I have to be” Was Dean’s truthful reply.  Sam was the morning, rabbit food, yoga guy.  Dean was not.  “And if you tell me I’ missing the best part of the day, I’ll introduce you to my little brother and you guys can do yoga together while lamenting on the prices of organic food.  Though according to him that’s probably a big enough punishment on its own.”

“To use a different cliché quote then, ‘to each their own’” Stiles replied without missing a beat.  Then ruined it by saying, “Though you _are_ missing a very vital portion of the day and from the distain in your voice about organic food, a few things are missing there too.”

“You’re really killing me here.” Dean sighed, shaking his head in mock despair.  Only partial mocking though.  The hunter really didn’t need another lecture on eating healthier or else he’d die young.  It wasn’t like he was deluded enough to think that he’d get old in the first place, some monster would get him years before.

Stiles laughed, but was interrupted in another answer by a different person butting in.  “Stilinski, if I could have a moment?” The new person stated, very obviously not making it a question.

“For your sake you might want to have more than one.  For my sake you can have very few.” Stiles answered, turning and glaring at the blond man standing behind him and Dean. 

Dean flicked his eyes over to the newcomer as well, understanding how Derek must feel whenever Dean spoke with someone he knew but the werewolf didn’t.  The man turned and looked at Dean for a second, raising his eyebrow at Stiles and evidently ignoring the young adult’s slight against him.  Stiles laughed, “Seriously, whatever you want to say is not going to be new to either of us.”

The man’s caustic smile tightened and he addressed Dean, “I assume then that you’re aware of the going on’s in this town?”

“He means the furry kind” Stiles confided almost mockingly, holding up his hands like claws and mimicking a growl that sounded more like a cat retching.

“Chris Argent” The man introduced himself, again ignoring Stiles for the time being and extending a hand for Dean to shake.

Dean grinned disarmingly, taking the man’s hand and returning the introductions.  “Dean Winchester.”

After Allison had gotten over who Dean was and the threat he potentially posed to the pack, she had relaxed and explained more about her own hunting family.  They were a largish family of hunters, and she was the only one with good ties to the pack.  The rest treated the wolves as a nuisance.  ‘Whom they were only waiting to have a reason to kill’ was implied and strongly disapproved of.  Allison and Scott had been dating for quite a while and on/off before she broke off from the Argents, so she was even firmer against any action the rest of her family might take. 

Argent looked please after hearing Dean’s introductions and the hunter had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.  The Winchester name was big and Argent probably thought that Dean was on the same side Allison originally thought he was.  Fucking dick.  If Stiles was having a civil conversation with him, did the guy really think he was here to kill all of Stiles’ friends?

“You’re here for the werewolves then?” Argent asked, not differentiating between the packs.  Stiles looked irritated, frowning until Dean answered completely innocently.

“Oh, didn’t Allison tell you?”  She didn’t, and Dean knew perfectly well that Allison was renting a place far away from her dad with Scott, Erica and Boyd over the summer.  Stiles and Isaac were living at the former’s father’s house.  “No, never mind, she did say she left.”

Surprise and wariness seeped into Argent’s voice, “You’ve met Allison?”

“We had a pack meeting last night.  You know, to talk about the other pack wanting to move in.” Stiles on the other hand sounded triumphant, his words only adding to Argent’s concern.

“You went to a pack meeting” Argent stated flatly, eyes narrowed at Dean though he still looked like he held some hope.

Hope that Dean quickly dashed with a grin.  “Yup, I’m Derek’s mate, so,” He ended the sentence early, shrugging as if it were oh so obvious.  Belatedly he wondered if he shouldn’t have said that around Stiles, but he wasn’t exactly the king of tact in the first place and it had already been put out there.

“Of course.” Argent replied stiffly, pasting a grimace that should’ve been a smile onto his face and spitting out a quick goodbye before retreating.

Stiles crowed in triumph after Argent had gone, turning to Dean and exclaiming, “Hah, that should ruin his day”

“You are a terrible and devious person” Dean told Stiles, still grinning with amusement.

“It keeps me awake at night.” Stiles replied, spoken as if it were a quote from some other time.  Then he jumped forward to pick up waffles and a salad that he ordered, saluting Dean before leaving.  “See you later Clown Circus”

“Clown Circus?” Dean asked in a ‘ _what the hell?’_ voice.

“Yup, it’s your nickname.  ‘Cause you seem like you’re so much fun, but in reality you’re just as terrible and devious as I am.” Was Stiles’ reply before he disappeared out the door with a little wave, the maniac smile on his face not gaining any points for the young adult on the sane scale that Dean had slid off of years previously.

Dean stood there blinking for a few seconds before he noticed an old woman staring at him with a disapproving look.  Shaking himself out of his confusion, Dean grinned brilliantly at her and then followed Stiles out, noting the blue jeep he was driving away in that was only slightly better than Sam’ minivan and wandering back to the motel.

Once back he found Derek already awake, snatching the pancakes away from Dean and growling happily as he ripped open the utensils package and began digging in.  Laughing softly, Dean pouted sarcastically, “Well now I know what’s really important in this relationship.”

Derek glanced up, looking like he was about to reply in the same mocking manner but pausing, stalking up to Dean and burying his face in the hunters neck only to pull away and growl, “You smell like Argent.”

“Oh ya, I met Chris Argent and Stiles at the diner.  It wasn’t really important, just a bunch of posturing and dashed hopes.  And Stiles apparently decided that my nickname is Clown Circus.” Dean continued, wrinkling his nose.  ‘Cause really, Clown Circus?  What the serious and ever living hell?

“What?” Derek looked suitably confused as well, though not as disgruntled as Dean.  Well, he only had to deal with Sourwolf.  Clown Circus was much worse.  It was two separate words, which only added to the horror of the matter.

“Why do people always give me such weird nicknames?” Dean asked, running over the ones he had been christened in his head.  Sam got normal nicknames, Moose, Giant and the like, but Dean got sucky ones.  Clown Circus and Grasshopper.  Though if anyone was to call Dean by that second one he’d have a panic attack after tearing them to shreds; Grasshopper had been Alistair’s name for him in hell.

His mate must’ve noticed the change in his emotions, as Derek pressed closer with a concerned eye, thankfully not demanding answers. 

Dean shook his head.  “Don’t worry, just thinking of one I’ll never be rid of.”  Derek still looked worried though, so Dean changed the subject, stealing the pancakes back from the werewolf.  Whatever he had been about to say was derailed as he took a bite and moaned. “These are amazing, holy shit”

A growl was Derek’s reply as he tried to get the food back and Dean smirked as he danced away, glancing from his mate to the pancakes and back, trying to distract him from the nickname thing.  Seemingly catching on to this new line of thinking with the thrum of arousal going through the bond, Derek glanced at the time and then raised an eyebrow at Dean. “We have ‘til eleven”

 

 

After a couple hours of fucking like bunnies, they drove to the planned pack meeting place, joining up with their respective groups and heading out to where they were waiting for the other pack.  As soon as the fighting started they would split off into their pairs, but for the beginning they just ran in small groups, Dean, Issac and Stiles forming the ambushing trio.  Since Dean was used to only hunting with Sam or Derek and sometimes Cas he thought it was an okay amount, but the others were quietly worried.  Dean probably should’ve been too, but he had just gotten used to working with what he had.  Running and speaking with Stiles and Issac, Dean determined quickly that Stiles was ‘pack mom’ and Issac was the kid who everyone took care of.  Not that he needed it, he definitely seemed to be able to hold his own in physical _and_ spoken skirmishes, but Stiles treated him like the baby of the family.

Currently the three of them were hiding downwind of their pack and the rivals, though Isaac was the only one who could hear what was happening, smirking slightly to himself after getting Stiles to be quiet—something Dean was quite happy about seeing as the young adult was still calling him Clown Circus.  He really hoped Stiles came up with a better nickname soon, if he absolutely _had_ to have one.

“What’s happening?” Stiles asked, evidently not able to stay silent for long, tapping his sigil covered and wolfsbane infused metal baseball bat against the ground.

“Derek and the other Alpha are talking, melodrama guy is attempting to scare him into giving up Beacon Hills and letting his wolves join their pack.”  Was Isaac’s hissed reply, using the name that Stiles had dubbed the rival Alpha. “Now hush, I need to listen ‘cause we’re going to have to go soon.”

Finally Stiles really did stop talking, and under five minutes later Isaac was stiffening, hissing out a warning that was quickly confirmed by a loud wolf’s cry.  The three of them instantly ran, darting through trees until they got to the fighting packs.  Dean only peripherally took note of the others as he shot out behind a wolf running to join in with an already fighting Boyd, pulling out his wolfsbane covered machete and stabbing it through the wolf’s back, twisting as he yanked it out to make sure the blow was fatal.  Sure enough that wolf stumbled and was ready to fall as an easy kill.  Before it hit the ground however, a gunshot rang out and the wolf was redundantly hit again, Dean whipping around to see a group of humans descending into the clearing, pushing the fighting wolves back into the trees.

“Fuck” Dean swore under his breath, instantly realizing that these were the hunters who had decided that now was such a great time to attack. 

To his side Isaac intercepted one and leapt, shoving the hunter down and slashing long lines through its chest with his claws.  Mentally cheering for the wolf in this situation, Dean merely rearranged his table of enemies and allies in his head as he engaged in a fight with another Beta wolf.  Habit had instantly snapped Dean into counting nine hunters, and an after-image of one shooting and scoring Erica’s side also told him that they didn’t know—or perhaps didn’t even care—who the bad guys in the situation were. 

Distantly hinking about it as he fought, Dean knew that he just didn’t kill humans, in fact it was one of his least favorite things to do—ignoring that small section of his mind from hell that reveled in the activity—but he didn’t know these hunters or what threat they may or may not pose.  He didn’t know if they were decent civilized people, he only knew that they were threatening Derek and his pack.  While Dean wasn’t _too_ attached to the pack yet, they were Derek’s and Dean had said he’d fight with them, so unless given concrete proof that they were going to go feral and maul somebody, they were the ‘good guys’ here and Dean was on their side. 

Finally and the most significant factor, the hunters were threatening Derek.  Dean had already established that he’d do anything for the werewolf he loved, so killing a couple hunters to protect his mate wasn’t exactly a far reach. 

Finally compiling the undeniable evidence, fighting against hunters was a go.  Besides, Dean had a shotgun in early response to the hunters guns, might as well make good on the whole long range weapon thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the grasshopper thing confuses you, go watch scenes with Alistair and Dean. I forget which one it is, but if you look it up I'm sure you could find out. It's somewhere out there...


	5. And you know, you know, you know it all went wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this there will be two more chapters. Just FYI

Derek’s count of the fighting after ten minutes was as follows, of the twelve wolves on the other pack, ten were present and accounted for, there were eight hunters out of the original nine, and all of Derek’s pack still alive, if not well.  Because there were so many extra enemies they weren’t able to team up, which led to Derek having no idea where half of his pack was other than that they were alive.  The fact that they were now fighting across an area of thick trees in the preserve was definitely not helping.  As for what he knew, Dean was helping Scott somewhere off to the right, Isaac was dancing around three hunters with Erica a little ways off, and Stiles was taking a baseball bat to the head of a Beta between two large trees.  Other than that, Derek knew little of what was happening with the rest of the hunters and wolves. 

He himself was fighting with the rival Alpha, or at least trying to between all of its ducks and twists that took it inches away from Derek’s claws and yet still managed to land blows itself.  Snapping at it, Derek had just managed to get a hit in when a shotgun blast pushed him back and away, the other Alpha squirming away as a hunter replaced where it had been, noting the Alpha leaving but Derek evidently taking priority in his kill list. 

Springing forward, Derek was stopped short when the pain from the wolfsbane buckshot hit him and he faltered, crashing into the ground from what should’ve been a useful leap.  The already clawed hunter aimed up for another shot and Derek ducked to the side, barely being missed and then swiping at the hunter as he went to reload.  Because it was Derek’s luck, _another_ three hunters whom Derek hadn’t noticed chose exactly that moment to appear, followed quickly by a forth.  The werewolf swung his gaze around frantically, looking for any help from another pack member, but all he could see was the retreating back of the other Alpha and he realized that it must’ve led him away from the fighting.  As for the hunters themselves, they were wounded but nothing that would take them completely out of action.

Backing up to a tree, Derek snarled at the hunters, still searching for help and pressing alarm through his bond with Dean, asking for help.  Even without the wolfsbane covered buckshot taking residence in his stomach, he doubted he would’ve been able to take on _five_ hunters.  He wasn’t exactly brilliant in his fights, but he knew the difference between unlikely and suicide. 

 “Well this is fun Alpha, we’ve been chasing your pack since Vegas.  Guess you just weren’t smart enough to hide and now your pack’s abandoned you” The hunter who had already shot Derek taunted.

Derek hissed, pulling himself back against the tree and cupping his hands over his stomach where the pain was spreading, attempting to keep any further damage from occurring with movement.  Why the fuck was Derek always being mistaken for the Alpha of packs that everyone seemed to want to kill?  And where the hell was Dean?  Stupid question because Derek could actually feel where his mate was, but the general idea of why he wasn’t _here_ still stood.  “I’m not part of that pack, I’ve never even been to Vegas.”

“Oh?  Knew there were suddenly more of you” One of the other hunters mused, looking curious but no less happy to see him die.  “Well another monster then, doesn’t matter.  Just means we have two packs that we need to get rid of.”

The first hunter came closer to Derek, swinging his reloaded shotgun up and pointing it at the werewolf to take another shot.  Derek snarled, attempting to command his body to move away but having no luck due to the amount of wolfsbane in his system.  Seriously, how much of the fucking stuff did they feel they needed to put into each bullet?  This was just fucking overkill.  The hunter had just opened his mouth—probably to say some pithy and cliché quote before Derek’s ultimate demise—when there was the sound of a gunshot and half of his face disappeared in a spray of blood as he dropped like a stone. 

“Now, I’ve got no problem with you hunting things that need to be hunted, but unless you get the fuck away from Derek and start figuring out who the real monsters are here, I’m going to have to kill all of you.” Dean’s voice rang out clearly and Derek turned to see his mate sauntering into the little clearing the hunters had cornered Derek in, a slightly smoking shotgun in his hands. 

“You right bastard, fucking were’s” A hunter with a useless arm spat, furious and looking from his dead friend to Dean and back like he could somehow imagine one to be dead in place of the other.

“Not a werewolf” Dean countered cheerfully, his gun still trained on them.  “Now I take it you will _not_ be leaving Derek and his pack alone?”

The hunters laughed, and started dying.  It was absolutely enthralling, seeing Dean slaughtering small groups of monsters was like a warm knife sliding through butter.  Derek’s hunter was absolutely amazing at what he did, it didn’t matter what he was killing, though Derek was quite glad that it wasn’t him. 

The first of the hunters dropped from the second blast from the shotgun and then the empty weapon was used as a club, caving in the skull of the next hunter as Dean placed himself between them and Derek.  The remaining hunter swung his gun around and shot at Dean, but Derek’s mate was still moving, smoothly ducking to smack the gun out of the hunters hand with his own shotgun and letting them both go flying as he pulled out his knife and neatly sliced open the last hunter’s throat. 

As soon as he glanced at them all to make sure they were dead, Dean was standing at Derek’s side, still prepared to fight and asking “Anymore?”

Derek breathed in harshly through the pain, listening for anyone close past the noises of the rest of the fighting a little ways away.  It sounded like his pack was winning, and with Dean having now killed five of the hunters, the ones left wouldn’t stand a chance.  “None close”

Dean hummed approval and went to his knees beside Derek, gently removing the werewolf’s hands and hissing in sympathy.  “Unless you can magically get the buckshot  out, I’m going to have to stick my hand in there.”

Letting out a huff of mirthless amusement, Derek let Dean remove his hands, puking black bile to the side before allowing his head fall back again the tree and panting.  “Shit”

“That sums it up.” Dean said, placing one hand momentarily on Derek’s jaw for comfort.   “Focus on listening for anyone coming.”

Attempting to do as his mate told him, Derek gritted his teeth as Dean stretched open the gunshot wound to poke around in it and get the metal out.  The pain was unbelievable and Derek was trying to focus elsewhere, but a strangled laugh from Dean brought him back. 

“What is it?” Derek asked, his head lolling to the side.

“I’ll tell you after” Was Dean’s reply, and Derek wondered if he should be offended.  Probably not.  Or maybe.  He really couldn’t tell and the pain was making everything fuzzy.  Getting shot by shotguns in general just sucked and Derek really wished that he could magically get the metal pellets out like Dean had mentioned.  That would be awesome and would mean that Dean didn’t have to have his hand inside Derek.  Derek would be totally fine with having his hand in Dean however, it’d also be entering a different way, then it’d be fun.  He’d have to mention it to the hunter the next time they were alone.

A rustling in the bushes stole his attention from meandering thoughts and Derek growled, alerting his mate to the unknown movement.  Derek was in far too much pain to be able to figure out who it was, so Dean would have to do that.  Luckily his mate got the message, swinging around and standing up in front of Derek. 

“Stiles.” Dean greeted as the threat appeared, returning to his place beside Derek as the werewolf gave a huff of relief.  Stiles let out a strangled noise at seeing Derek’s lower abdomen hanging open, but Dean didn’t give him a chance to talk, speaking as he resumed his rummaging through Derek’s insides.  “Get the shotgun, not mine, the one next to the hunter.  Grab any rounds you can find and bring them over here.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, you know, generally things that are inside people’s bodies are supposed to stay there.  Holy crap!  Where is this guy’s face?!” Stiles freaked, rambling on about the descriptions of the dead hunters and how gross they were, accented by the noises of him searching for shotgun rounds.  Derek probably would’ve been irritated, but it was like he was hazily floating, which was weird, because that had never really happened before.  The pain was dulled, not screaming like wolfsbane wounds usually did.

“Dean” Derek murmured, squinting down at the hunter and the ever increasing pile of bloody buckshot beside them.  “What are you doing?”

“I tortured people in hell for ten years, I know my way around both causing and blanking out pain” Dean replied, his voice tight. 

Derek let out a small noise of understanding, but the words seemed to freak Stiles out even more.  “What? Hell?  You do realize that isn’t comforting!  When your hands are inside someone, you don’t talk about torture!  It’s not good!”

Dean laughed softly, pulling his hands away from Derek with a disgustingly wet squelch and grabbing the rounds from Stiles where the kid had frozen, staring down at Derek.  “He’s too out of it to notice right now.”

Narrowing his eyes, Derek decided that he _should_ be offended by that and said as much, though Dean’s only reply was to softly and momentarily press his lips to Derek’s before popping open one of the shells. 

“Give me your hand” Dean told Stiles.  When it looked like Stiles was going to bicker Dean repeated the order, this time his voice leaving no room for arguments.

“Alpha voice” Derek pointed out distantly, widening his eyes as he noticed that Dean had already separated the wolfsbane in Stiles hand.  That took some time and the werewolf had no idea if he had even gotten a reply to whatever he just said.  Somehow the stuff transported itself onto Dean’s blood covered hand and then it was on fire, Stiles rambling about how bad an idea that was in the background.  Then pressure and pain.  So much pain. 

Derek came back to himself gasping, Stiles’ panicked voice in his ears and the sounds of Erica bursting into the clearing.  Dean was quiet, barely a foot away from Derek and letting the werewolf grasp his upper arms while meeting Derek’s eyes in support.  Glancing down, Derek was relieved to see the black lines around his stomach disappearing.  Not wanting to be on the ground any longer Derek attempted to put his hands beside him to push himself up, pausing at the resistance and subsequent realization that he had to remove his claws from where they had sunk into Dean’s arms first.  Jerking his head up to meet Dean’s eyes, the werewolf was relieved to find that although the hunter looked like he was in some pain, there was no panic or fear.  Thankful for Dean’s lack of concern, Derek unsheathed his claws from his mate and pushed himself up to lean back against the tree, resting his hands over his stomach.   Dean stood as well, stepping backwards and twisting his arms around once to check over the damage.

 After the first few times Derek had accidently impaled Dean with his claws they had kind of stopped freaking out about it.  What could they say, it happened.  Fucking, healing, hunting, that one time with the fog horn— _long_ _story_ —and other day to day instances.  Derek had passed the initial freak out about Dean maybe only _saying_ he was fine with it when Dean had persuaded him to purposefully scar him and leave a mark, after which they had quite a few rounds of rather enthusiastic, messy and very kinky sex.  The triskelion Derek had traced the night before and carved onto Dean was something the werewolf was quite pleased with.

“Dude! Your arms are _mauled_!” Stiles on the other hand didn’t understand the spoken agreement Derek and Dean had hashed out.

The hunter snorted, ignoring or not caring about the wide eyed looks Erica and Stiles were giving them.  And to add in their eyes to the abnormality of the couple’s relationship, Dean’s reply was totally sexual.  “You think this’ bad, you should really see my hips.”

Erica looked curious and Stiles looked like he couldn’t figure out what his reaction should be, playing somewhere between horrified and scandalized.  Derek didn’t really know how Erica was finding the time to think about anything in a sexual manner, considering the ruler straight line of red and black across her side that was probably from a hunter’s gun.  Deciding to stop this conversation before it went anywhere, Derek asked, “What’s happening with the other pack and the hunters?”

Erica glanced uneasily at the hunters Dean had slaughtered and answered, “One hunter left and the other pack’s still mostly here.  Scott, Allison, Isaac and Boyd are fighting.”

“How many of the other pack are left?” Dean asked, using the same tone of authority he had used with Stiles.  Derek opened his mouth to comment or protest, he didn’t really know which, but his mate glared at him, saying, “Not one fucking thing.  You feel like you’re on wolfsbane laced drugs or something.”

“How would you know what I feel like on drugs?” Derek asked as a retort, and Dean smirked with his reply.

“Alright, you feel like I did that one time a ghost in a junkie’s house blew coke at me and I breathed it all in.  So shut up until your intestines are back where they belong.”  Dean said with a stern look, then turned back and watched Erica expectantly. 

Seriously, Dean really had perfected the type of stare that made you want to do things.  It was probably another thing he had gotten from Cas.  But he _had_ also gotten quite a few useful things from Derek, not everything useful came from Cas.  ‘Cept the blood from the new puncture marks on Dean’s arms probably weren’t useful.  Even still, Derek loved those marks.  Every single one he had put on Dean.  Stiles would never have allowed Derek to do what the werewolf did to Dean.  Or maybe he would’ve.  Either way it didn’t matter now, Derek had Dean now and was happy with the hunter.  The hunter had his marks.

“Derek” Dean’s voice interrupted the happy daze and Derek blinked, staring back at the hunter.  Oh, Derek thought wondrously as he noticed that Dean had ordered around his pack and Erica was gone again, he had really gotten distracted.

Saying a grand and internal fuck you to the wolfsbane, Derek pushed himself off the tree, raising an eyebrow at Dean in the hopes that the hunter would tell him what was happening and that he would be able to retain the information.  Thankfully, his mate did.  “Their Alpha and seven Betas are left and Scott and Erica shouldn’t be fighting.”

“Alight” Derek grimaced, moving towards where he could hear the fighting and pretending he was up to it.  Dean and Stiles, who had also been left in the clearing followed, the former reloading his shotgun and the latter holding up his metal baseball bat that he had dropped upon seeing Derek.  The Alpha quickly lost them both as they entered the fighting and he raced at a Beta attacking a fallen Scott, tearing the wolf off of his packmate and throwing him to the side, snarling in anger. The Beta returned the snarl and leapt at Derek, but he ducked to the side, darting out with a fist and snapping its ribs as it swung at him.  Scott hooked his foot around the werewolf’s leg and tripped it, allowing Derek to reach out and break its neck. 

The body was still falling when Stiles gave a shout of warning and Derek looked up to see the rival Alpha slamming Isaac into a tree, gorging his claws deep into Isaac’s chest.  Derek was still slightly tipsy over the shot from the wolfsbane, but he leapt, dragging the other Alpha away from Isaac and throwing him to the side. 

Positioning himself in-between his packmate and the Alpha, Derek took a quick look around for status report.  Erica and Scott were dragging Isaac back, all three of them covered in blood from their own and each others wounds.  Stiles and Allison were covering their retreat from the rival Beta’s, though Allison was out of arrows and Stiles had a large gash down his arm. Dean and Boyd were fighting together, taunting a pair of Betas and darting in to take them down, Dean’s arms covered in blood and Boyd was limping.  All in all, it was not looking good.  An Alpha and five Betas that Derek could see up against his wounded pack that had already dealt with the hunters—well, that had mostly been Dean, but still...  Speaking of which, the remaining hunter was attempting to crawl away, both legs completely useless.  Not a fun way to die.

Derek turned back to the other Alpha just in time to have to dodge, hissing when the other’s claw caught his side.  Ignoring the pain, Derek lashed out, drawing long lines up the other Alpha’s side and circling him. 

“Your pack is dead Hale” The Alpha spat, grinning and baring blood stained teeth. 

Choosing not to answer, Derek merely lunged again, his teeth meeting in the Alpha’s upper arm rather than his throat when he twisted away.  Claws sunk into Derek’s back and he was pulled off of him, turning and attempting to gut whoever his second assailant was.  The Beta that had pulled him off merely laughed, spinning around him so that it was impossible to watch both werewolves at once.  He managed for a couple of seconds before the Alpha got in behind him and slashed open his back, shoving Derek into the ground.  He rolled over and snarled at him, but most of his further movement was prevented by the Beta slamming down and snapping his arm, laughing at his pained gasp.  The Alpha sunk his claws into Derek’s cheek, wrenching his head up to bare his neck as blood dribbled out of his mouth.  Out of the corner of his eye Derek again took note of his pack, seeing his three wounded packmates defending themselves against three almost fully healthy Beta’s, Boyd taking down the second of the two him and Dean had been fighting, the first already dead. Realizing that this was it, they were going to lose, Derek had just felt the tips of the other Alpha’s claws sinking into his neck when he met Dean’s frantic eyes, knowing the hunter wouldn’t get there in time but wanting his mate to be the last thing he saw before he was returned to that colorless land they had become mates in. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!! It had to happen... I promise that I'll try and update the next chapter earlier, but for now I'll just leave it like this so that all of you hate me.


	6. Cheer up baby it wasn't always quite so bad, for every bit of venom that came out, the antidote was had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally defeated the dreaded and messed up wifi connection! Seriously, I got dropped off at a place with internet for three hours, only to find out that the wifi didn't work! So freaking irritating. :(
> 
> So I really don' know what happened with this chapter. It just seems like every couple tens of thousands of words I have to write a really dark one shot to get it all out, or else my larger stories get dark. The last one of those I wrote became a Destiel piece in which Dean's sent back to hell, losses his memories and ends up torturing Cas, so... Who know what will happen, but because the net chapter in this story is a happy pack pow wow, it might need to happen. Just so that things don't go funn(ier)...  
> Anyways, what I'm trying to get at is that the next chapter will take another while for me to write without it being terrible. I'm soo sorry for all the pauses and time lases in which I haven't been giving you guys anything, but thank you soo much for continuing to read. I promise I will finish this one and it shall hopefully not suck.

_“Cas, please save Derek!  Please, you have to come now!”_  

The sheer depth of painful and urgent emotion screaming through the prayer from Dean instantly had Castiel flying, quickly locating and landing next to the Alpha who was Dean’s mate.  The Alpha himself was being held down on the ground by a Beta werewolf as another Alpha slashed its claws through Derek’s neck.  Dean’s werewolf was already wounded other than the fatal wound the other Alpha was creating, a broken arm, gashes down his back and a slowly healing bloody mess making up his lower torso being the worst of the many smaller ones.  Setting wise they were inside a forest that smelt of Derek and surrounded by other werewolves and the bodies of dead (and dying) humans.  Some of the fighting creatures smelt like Derek and some smelt like the other Alpha, unmistakably a pack war.  Focusing now on Derek, Castiel noticed that the only thought blaring through his mind seconds from death was to find Dean, something that greatly endeared him to the angel. 

All this was evident to Castiel in the space of less than a second and he finished the infinitesimal time amount by stepping forward to grasp the head of the Alpha in the process of killing Derek, pushing his grace through it and burning the monster out without any thought for its pained screams.  Once it was dead Castiel casually tossed the corpse to the side, about to turn and find Dean as Derek had been doing.  Before he could search out his charge however, howls of pain from other werewolves were raised into the air and Castiel knew that they would interrupt him by attacking before he could accomplish his task.

The angel’s grasp of pack mentality being correct, the werewolves who had howled and didn’t have the mark of being in Derek’s pack started to launch themselves at the angel, anger and rage fueling their vain movements.  Castiel flicked his wrist, his blade slipping into hand and briefly thought of a short time previously when he had denied all forms of fighting, but that was quickly discarded in favor of swinging out, catching the first werewolf mid jump on his blade and killing it immediately.  The rest died either from his grace or blade, in a fury from their Alpha being killed and none of them focusing on a clear strategy or plan of attack. 

As soon as the last werewolf not in Derek’s pack died, Castiel caught sight of his charge to make sure Dean was not fatally harmed, as he had proven in the past to praying for others even when at deaths door himself. 

Luckily his charge was mostly unharmed, striding up to and past Castiel and briefly clapping him on the shoulder.  “Thanks man, that was awesome.”

His charge’s outward appearance and voice were light, but his soul twisted in pained fear as he quickly made his way over to Derek.  It was almost staggering the amount Dean felt for the creature, his emotions only growing each time Castiel visited them.  When Derek pushed himself to his feet and accepted Dean’s hand on the back of his neck in comfort, their souls reached out to each other, twining and brightening in relief at their reconnection.  Castiel still didn’t like Derek, especially considering the amount of harm and possession he placed on Dean, but the hunter needed people to need him and so Derek was good for him.  The Alpha was dependent on Castiel’s charge like Sam had always been with his older brother, but without the desire to get away from their way of life.

Before he could reply to Dean, a human—who must’ve been in Derek’s pack—loudly asked, “Woah! What are _you_?”

“I am an angel of the Lord” Castiel answered, turning and tilting his head at the human. 

He was younger than Castiel’s vessel, Dean, or Derek, but around the same height.  Brown hair and warm amber eyes added to this young look, but his soul was more aged though still a playful and bright light that had tendrils of connections stretching out to certain werewolves around them.  The biggest connections were to a werewolf with longer brown hair and Derek.

“Angel’s don’t exist” The human replied, sounding affronted as if Castiel was offending him _by_ existing.

Dean replied to this comment with amusement, and Castiel glanced over as he spoke.  He was aware that his staring had been often deemed inappropriate, but didn’t really care. “That’s what I said went I first met him”

Those hadn’t been Dean’s exact words, but perhaps this was a time where he was only making a comparison.  Doubt spun from the human and Castiel turned back to him, frowning at the speculations swirling through his mind as to what Castiel was.  “I suppose you could consider me an extra terrestrial being as I’m from heaven, but angel is a better descriptor than alien.”

The human choked, gaping as he asked, “Dude! Did you just read my mind?”

“Yes” Was the angel’s simple reply.  That was probably the closest to what he had been doing that a human could understand.  Dean and Sam didn’t like him doing it to them, but Castiel didn’t extend that courtesy to anyone else. 

“What?  You can’t just do that! It’s incredibly invasive!  Like, totally not sociably acceptable.  Just, so not cool” the human managed, fidgeting and avoiding Castiel’s eyes. 

He seemed to be trying to tell himself not to think abut quite a few things, like eating the last of the Nutella, listening to Bon Jovi ‘on occasion’, a summer in which himself and the werewolf Scott had gone skinny dipping in a nearby river and lost most of their clothes, leading to them having to run to Stiles’ house with only a hoodie each as covering.  The human’s name must be Stiles then, Castiel rationalized, though his soul said differently.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asked warily, taking the angel’s attention away from Stiles. 

The werewolf was adding onto his question in his thoughts, wondering why Cas had saved him even when the angel hated him.  This was accompanied by a surprising amount of distress, and Castiel quickly sought out the reasoning to be that Derek didn’t want all of Dean’s family to hate him, especially considering how well his pack got on with Dean and stemming from a desire for an actual family beyond the biological one he believed himself to be the cause of death of, or the pack who had left him.  Not that Derek would ever say any of that aloud.

Castiel tilted his head, wondering what to say in reply to all this.  He felt, sympathy, maybe, for the werewolf, remembering the time during the ‘mess’ with Raphael when Dean had been the only one to defend him against Sam and Bobby’s ultimately true accusations.  In the end, Castiel only replied to the spoken question.  “Dean prayed to me.”

Dean shifted with the answer, biting his lip and flicking his eyes toward Derek who was watching the hunter like he didn’t know what to say.  Evidently this was quickly turning into an ‘awkward moment’, as many people called times where everyone was uncertain.  Deciding that he might be of some use in clearing it, Castiel stepped forwards until he was in front of Dean and his mate, laying his palm on the side of the hunter’s face and healing the injuries he had received. 

Thankfulness came from both Dean and Derek, and Castiel decided that perhaps now he could also act on his sympathies with the creature.  Derek was genuinely quite concerned with Dean’s well being, and other than the occasional purposeful marking that Dean seemed to enjoy, he didn’t hurt him like he had at the beginning of their bonding.  With this in mind, Castiel also stretched out his hand to the werewolf, pausing at his noticeable flinch.  Tilting his head at the fearful motion, Castiel continued his movement and touched Derek’s face, using the more tarnished parts of his grace to heal the werewolf in order to not also smite him.  From the lack of any additional pain coming from the werewolf, Castiel had actually managed it.  He didn’t know whether to be sad or happy about the fact, so he simply chose to ignore it and be neither.

Surprise extended in waves from both his charge and his werewolf, and Castiel returned his gaze to Dean.  “I will return later, but I left a merchant I was speaking with in Napeles rather abruptly and wish to resume my conversation with him.”  He paused for a moment before adding, “There are no beings wishing you ill will in the general vicinity that pose a threat.”

On that note Castiel once again took flight, only remembering once he was again engaged in conversation with the now awestruck merchant that Dean liked pleasantries.  He’d just have to try and remember to use them later when he visited Dean. 

 

~*~

 

Cas left them all with identical looks of shock, though Dean knew his and Derek’s were for a much different reason than the rest of the pack’s.  The pack burst into questions but Dean only had eyes for his mate.

“Dude, Cas just healed you” Dean hissed, flabbergasted.  Not as much as Derek was with all the confusion flooding through their bond, but still quite amazed.  Derek just did a gaping fish impression in reply, and Dean realized aloud, “Son of a bitch, that means he likes you!  No, that’s probably too positive, probably closer to that he no longer wants to kill you on sight.”

“No more diving under the table at the first sound of wings then?  I feel like this healing is a reoccurring thing, it’s pretty much the same way I figured out you weren’t going to kill me.” Derek huffed incredulously, most likely saying more than he meant to because of the shock Dean could feel still running through him.  Well, it wasn’t every day that an angel who previously made it no secret he disliked you just randomly waltzed up and healed you. 

“Wait, you figured that after I helped you with the demons and wolfsbane?”  Dean asked, blinking at Derek’s nod.  He hadn’t made that connection, but he guessed it made sense as to why the werewolf hadn’t just killed him afterwards and ran.  “Damn, no wonder you took my offer.  I figured out vice versa a ways after.”

“When?” Derek asked curiously, one eyebrow rising.  Dean grinned, forming his hands into claw like hooks and pressing them into his hips like he was stabbing himself.  The first time Derek had fucked him after the whole werewolf reveal.  The surprise through their bond just kept on growing and Derek narrowed his eyes as, stating.  “You’re fucked in the head.”

“Nonsense” Dean snorted, though it was totally true.  “I’m sure I could pass any shrink exam you threw at me”

“Yes, but you’d lie on all the answers” Was the reasonable retort and Dean tipped his head in acknowledgment before turning the motion into a head tilt of questioning.  More confusion was now seeping into the bond, but it didn’t feel like it was about Cas, more like Derek was confused by something Dean had done.

The couple was reminded of their surroundings by Stiles asking, “Speaking of shrink exams, was that guy actually an angel?”

“Of course Cas is an angel, he’s the best one there is” Was Dean’s automatic reply, shaking off thoughts of confusion.  If the werewolf wanted to ask Dean something he would.  Noting Derek’s scowl, Dean added, “It’s true.  If Zachariah or Uriel were still alive and you met them, they’d kill you on sight after mocking you, your friends, and four generations or so of your family.  They were huge douches.”

“I’m not arguing” Derek defended himself unnecessarily.  He glanced away from Dean and then a flash of something like panic prompted him into asking someone else, “Weren’t you wanting to have the pack over once these guys were taken care of?”

Dean looked over to see Stiles changing direction as he answered and realized that the young adult had probably been about to smoother him with questions about angels.  Crisis averted?

“Actually Erica suggested that.  Though I’m totally all for a pow wow too, it’s just semantics I want to be clear on here.” Yup, crisis averted.  A satisfaction quickly destroyed as Stiles continued, “Though I’m driving with Dean, I want to know everything there is about angels”

“Cas’ll come back, you can just talk to him?” Dean suggested, really not wanting to get into a conversation about angels. 

Dean knew enough about them to have such a conversation, but right now he just wanted to get his hands all over Derek to make sure that his Alpha was alright.  Yes, Cas had healed him and Dean could feel his wellness through the bond, but there was a difference between knowing and actually _knowing_.  Fuck words, Dean just wanted to know that Derek was okay.

It appeared Erica of all people seemed to get Dean’s hesitance, as she addressed Stiles innocently, “You drove us all out here Stiles, but if you give me the keys to the jeep you can _totally_ go back with them.”

Stiles actually blanched, shaking his head and looking successfully distracted.  “No, nope, not, never.  _So_ not happening, I can’t even stress it enough.  I will give Scott my keys _way_ before I give them to you.  You’d probably hit something and grind the gears just for fun and for starters.”

Because he was in a clearing with werewolves Dean didn’t let out any huffs of relief, but it was a close thing as the pack settled and began to move around to clean up, still arguing travel arrangements amongst themselves.  Derek nodded to the side where the bodies of the dead hunters were, indicating that they should go over and clean them up. 

Dean followed his mate, stepping close to him once they were out of line of sight and pressing fully against the werewolf, kissing him, but quite aware that the others would still be able to hear whatever they said or did.  Damn werewolf hearing.  Derek surged forward to take the normal lead on things but Dean pulled away before it could get too heated, resting his forehead against Derek’s and sharing breaths with the werewolf as he stared into the other’s eyes, taking comfort from their proximity and the knowledge that Derek was still alive.  This time it was the werewolf who broke away first, flicking his eyes down and slipping his hand into Dean’s jeans over his right hip, pressing into the triskelion carved there as uncertainty further colored the bond.  Uncertainty that painted a picture of relief, hope, and simply not understanding _why_.

When he actually spoke it wasn’t what Dean had been expecting, though on reflection he hadn’t been expecting anything resembling words, just basking in relief.  Apparently even with the shock from Cas’ healing and two near death experiences, that wasn’t the case for Derek.  “You didn’t hesitate.”

“What?” Dean asked, suitably confused.  Cause if that was about praying for Cas, of course he didn’t fucking hesitate, and how would Derek have even noticed time wise to when Dean realized what was happening. 

“You killed four other hunters, and you didn’t even hesitate.”  Derek expanded on his first sentence, now lightly tracing the triskelion with his claws as his eyes flickered to the slaughtered bodies of hunters in view around them.

Dean’s eyes widened and he tilted his head—only slightly because he was still pressed up against Derek—as he realized that ya, he totally had.  Earlier on in the fight he had already decided that he would kill the hunters if need be, but knowing worst case scenario and actually going through with it were different things.  These hunters could’ve been good people, they could’ve been just like Dean himself was at a younger age. 

Yup.  They could’ve been future saviors of the world, and Dean had absolutely zero regrets on killing them to save Derek.  According to what the werewolf was feeling, zero regrets were many less regrets than what he thought Dean should have.  Then again, most hunters would’ve hesitated when faced with killing others with the same self-hired job also in the same species, and they definitely wouldn’t have done it for the sake of a werewolf.  So maybe Derek actually thought that Dean would’ve been iffy when it came to killing humans to protect him.

But hadn’t Derek learned better than that?  Repetitively now, Dean would do anything for people he loved, and he loved Derek.  Actually come to think of it, Dean had never actually _told_ Derek that.  It probably wasn’t the best thing to say aloud due to the amount of power it gave away, but he trusted the werewolf.  Derek wouldn’t run when he knew just how fucked up Dean was.  He already knew the basics, from Dean’s complete consent to being under ownership, from corridors to purgatory, from torturing to find an angel, and from lies to a brother.  He had seen and caused a hell flashback in Dean, now he could find out about the rest of the scars hell had left behind.  Granted Dean had been protective before hell, but the place had added many different options in practicing such feelings.

Dean pulled his head back just far enough to move in again and place his mouth right next to Derek’s ear, threading his hands around the back of the werewolf’s neck before speaking softly, delighted when words that he usually had such a hard time with just flowed off his tongue.  “I’ve told you before that demons are created in hell, a place I was tortured in for thirty years and tortured others in for ten.  Going through part of the process of becoming a demon never goes away, no matter how much Sam and myself at times want it to, so I’ve learned to accept the part of me that’s still living with hell just as cleanly as you’ve accepted your wolf.  I wasn’t born with it, but I can and will use it if I need to. 

“Let me be clear on this” Dean continued in a whisper, aware not only of the uncertainty still rolling through Derek, but also of the rising quiet excitement that came with embracing hell thoughts that contradictorily calmed Dean.  “There are three people alive right now who I love, who I would do anything for.  Sammy, Cas, and you.  So I would _eagerly_ tear apart anyone who hurts you. I would peel their skin off, hammer nails into their fingers and slowly gorge out their eyes with absolute relish if they even touch you with just the intent to cause harm.  I don’t care about the deaths of four hunters when it means I get to keep you, I would kill fucking saints if it was a choice between them and you. 

“Don’t be surprised that I killed humans who wanted to do the same to you.”  Dean slowed down on his last point, stressing each word and pressing love through the bond.  “I would do _anything_ for you.”

To anyone else this would be scary, this would make them flee in the other direction so fast that they’d outrun Coyote _and_ Roadrunner, but Derek’s reaction was completely different just as Derek himself was different.  For fucks sake, the werewolf was so possessive of Dean that he carved his mark into the hunter’s hip and practically jumped with glee when first given the consent to do so.  Derek had probably only bothered getting consent because he had abandonment issues—that previous actions should show were a waste of time focusing on.  Other people’s casual touches of Dean would be far more than enough to get a growl and a scowl from Derek, though no one really knew why all of a sudden they were stepping back and fearing for their lives, he did it so subtly.  The werewolf may not have been to hell, but he had been through it and was just as fucked up as Dean was, and from the amount of arousal spiking through the bond as Derek raised red eyes, he loved it.  It seemed as though only one of them would be ever be good with words at a time, as Derek was completely speechless and he surged forward, claiming the hunter’s lips in a biting kiss and pressing his back up against a tree. 

Dean moaned in reply, reciprocating the kiss just as enthusiastically and sucking on the werewolf’s tongue.  They’d have to talk about this later, there’d be more insecurity and upset, but for now they could move on.  Before it could go any further though, a snapping noise interrupted them and both Dean and Derek whipped their heads around to see Isaac and Scott coming into the clearing, both of them bright red and Isaac having evidently tripped over a root after noticing them.

Derek chuckled and turned back to the hunter, whispering a quick _later_ and digging into the triskelion scar with his unshifted fingers for a moment before pulling back to actually start cleaning up.  Dean let out a breathless laugh, a shit eating grin on his face as he glanced at the younger werewolves.  Isaac stammered and looked away, while Scott was evidently trying to pretend he had _not_ just seen his Alpha furiously making out and grinding into Dean.  Ah the attempts of the innocent.  So fucking innocent. 


	7. And I know I should go but I'll probably stay, and that's all you can do about some things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was only going to be one more chapter, but now there needs to be two because I want to do Stiles speaking with Cas and Dean and Derek having a conversation after. So ya, one more after this.  
> I'm sorry for the amount that this chapter sucks, but i just couldn't get it to work, and i didn't want you guys waiting forever, so I'm posting it. Unpacking and the holiday is over now though, so I'll have much more time to write and actually finish this story, don't worry.  
> Oh, and I totally have an idea for a long story in this series to do next, though this time I'm definitely writing it before I post. And two other stories other than that, but those will just be one shots.

Having an angel who you previously thought hated you with a passion turn around and heal you was insane.  Having somebody tell you that they would do anything for you, including and going far past torture and killing was freaking mind blowing.  But apparently, that was Derek’s life.  Because _both_ of those things had just happened within five minutes of each other. 

Firstly, Derek really didn’t know what to think about Cas healing him.  He had basically given up on getting anyone from Dean’s family to like him after the fourth ‘just checking in’ phone call from Sam and the twentieth death-glare from the angel.  Eventually just accepted, yup, all of his mate’s family was going to want to kill him until he actually died.  But now Cas had ruined that.  Given him hope—though he’d never admit that aloud—that maybe things wouldn’t always be like that.  Sam probably wouldn’t get over the whole werewolf thing due to the past circumstances Dean had later explained to Derek after they met his younger brother, but he might.  Years down the road. 

If the Alpha had ever imagined either of them accepting him, it would’ve been Sam though, definitely not Cas.  Cas, who knew that Derek raped Dean, knew the extent of the Alpha bond’s submission factor (after a very awkwardly timed appearance just in time to find Dean completely submitting and on his knees for Derek—the werewolf had been extremely possessive that day after a suspect in a hunt flirted with Dean, need he say more—)and knew about the wounds the werewolf inflicted on his mate that were practically routine.  So no, Derek had never seen Cas warming up to him.  And also no, he was never going to admit just how fucking happy he was that Cas apparently had, though he did want to ask the angel about it.  Except, without words, ‘cause that was bound to be an awkward and touchy-feely conversation that Derek was _so_ not fond of or looking forward to.  Then again, at least Cas was blunt.

And that moved on well to the second point, as Dean had been pretty blunt too in his little speech to Derek over the werewolf’s insecurity and confusion over the dead hunters.  Derek had needed to fight other werewolves to protect his pact and territory, but hunters tended to stick together.  Not physically, but they wouldn’t attack or kill each other if they ever met up.  Due to previous experiences with the two of them meeting other hunters on the road, Derek knew that interactions could range from passively hostile to extremely friendly, like with Garth.  So yes, Derek had been pretty surprised when Dean actually _killed_ four hunters to save him.  The hunters at the beginning of them working together didn’t count as Dean killing them to save Derek, as they had been possessed by demons.  These four were human, 100% human.  So one could see where Derek would get his uncertainties.

Except, apparently, those uncertainties were completely unfounded.  Because Dean had vocally admitted in long and short words that he would do anything for Derek, and he hadn’t lied once.  There was not a single packmate who could say the same for Derek, and none of them whom he would want to.  But Dean’s loyalty?  That was wonderful, precious, and something Derek was going to hold onto forever. 

So Derek was really pleased with life at the moment, all the heavy topics explored and thought through. All this thinking happened, more or less, in the time Derek had in-between cleaning up the bodies and now, riding shotgun on the way to Stiles’ house and the celebratory ‘No One’s Dead, Yippee!’ pack meet.

“Hey Derek, can I ask you something?” Dean asked, breaking Derek’s train of thought and sounding uncertain but determined, leading him to believe that maybe not _all_ of the heavy topics had been spoken for. 

Considering the way their last conversation had gone, Derek vaguely wondered if this one would end in him telling Dean that he’d collar him and keep him chained and marked up just to prove that he’s always going to belong to him.  Because that’s just the way their relationship was, Derek was possessive and Dean was protective. 

“You can ask me two, and that counts as the first one.”  Derek decided blithely, frowning when light irritation seeped through the bond.  That was one really awesome thing about their bond, it was so strong that they could even feel the small changes in emotion and Derek could figure out when something was _really_ serious.

Away from the Stiles rambling in Derek’s head and partially coming out of his mouth, Dean continued with asking his question.  “Do you want to knot me?”

And all the Stiles type rambling screeched to a complete halt.  Crap.  What was Derek supposed to answer for this?  Of course he wanted to knot Dean, but the hunter had told him that he’s only ever been knotted in hell and more recently when Derek raped him.  So the right answer was no, right?

“Stop thinking, it’s not a hard question and I want your truthful answer.” Dean demanded, putting an end to Derek’s frantic decision making.

“Yes” Derek blurted out, picking at a non existent speck of dust on his jeans and avoiding Dean’s eyes.  The hunter should be looking at the road anyway, not Derek.

Dean hummed, paused like he was building up to admitting something and then proceeding to ramble.  “I want to try it.  Like, it’s supposed to be good and all, I’ve just never had a good experience with it.  I mean, hell and you being feral weren’t exactly normal circumstances, and it’s such a big part of the whole werewolf mate thing that it can’t be terrible.  ‘Cause then that would really suck for any werewolves trying to mate and you’d think they’d come up with something that doesn’t tear you apart.  I doubt all werewolves are masochists,”

Dean had gotten—he refused to use ‘trained’—Derek out of the habit of asking Dean if he was sure, but right now the werewolf really wanted relapse.  Deep breaths, then deal with it and cut into Dean’s continued rambling.

“You want me to knot you again.” Derek said, testing the words

Dean didn’t even roll his eyes, just tapped his fingers against the steering wheel with nerves as he nodded.  “We’d need to plan it out and all beforehand, but yes, at some point I want you to do it.”  His mate swallowed before clarifying, “To knot me”

Derek couldn’t suppress the rising excitement that flooded through him at the thought of knotting Dean.  He had been freaking out after regaining his mind the last and only previous time he knotted his mate, but for the second before clarity it had felt wonderful, absolutely perfect being tied to Dean.  Just the thought of it…

“Whenever you’re ready” Derek finally replied, noting that the agitation roiling through Dean turned calmer at Derek’s obvious want. 

Dean nodded and from then on the drive was quiet, comfortably so.  They pulled up beside Stiles’ house just after the kid himself, Dean reaching out and pressing his fingers to Derek’s wrist for a couple heartbeats before getting out of the impala.

“So is your angel coming too?”  Stiles asked Dean as soon as the hunter was out of the car.

Derek laughed, flashing Dean a grin and ignoring the irritation being sent through the bond as he left his mate with a researching Stiles.  The kid was extremely stubborn and determined when he wanted to know things and Dean would hate having to answer so many questions.  It’s a big part of what made him so valuable to the pack.  The researching, not making people answer questions.

Upon entering Stiles’ house with the pack, Derek was slightly wary to note the Sheriff’s heartbeat inside.  The pack had been forced to tell him about werewolves after a fight with harpies that had gone wrong and Stiles had felt the need to save all the wolves by getting in the way of the harpies claws.  He managed it well and looked like a total BAMF during—Derek thought that that was the acronym used in describing badass people, but he wasn’t exactly caught up on mainstream culture so he could be wrong—but also ended up with claw marks down the side of his face that couldn’t be hidden or excused away.  Derek could still just barely see the scars on the kid now.

Anyways, the fact that the Sheriff learned about Derek and Stiles being together at the same time probably had been a bit much and added a couple weeks to the no pack time the Sheriff had forced on Stiles in the hope of keeping him out of life threatening trouble.  Of course that hadn’t lasted long, ending in an attacking witch and the Sheriff coming to an uneasy acceptance of Stiles’ involvement in the supernatural.  And threatening Derek with wolfsbane bullets, reminding them both that Stiles was still underage—if only by a few months at the time—and setting up curfew and rules before welcoming them into his home.  Of course ‘them’ translated into the whole pack, so _everyone_ was subsequently and unintentionally welcomed in.

“Pack meeting?” Was the first thing the Sheriff asked as the pack moved into his home.  The man looked like he was in a rush to get somewhere, so hopefully awkward conversations would be saved for so _far_ later that they wouldn’t happen.  Derek hadn’t really spoken with the man after Stiles and his break up. 

Oh and yup, there was the noticing of the Alpha, which meant time for a stiff greeting.

“Hale, you’re back in town.” The Sheriff stated, following the stiff greeting by the letter.

Helpfully Stiles cut in from interrogating Dean before Derek had to reply, announcing, “Yup, we, umm, got rid of that other pack and the hunters following them.  So now, you know, happy most of the pack is together celebration time!”

“That’s good” the Sheriff didn’t successfully not make it a question as he left.  With his job and morals of course he didn’t like the whole killing aspect of their lives, but he had come to accept and trust that the pack would know when it was necessary.  

The Sheriff paused on the way out the door suddenly, noticing Dean, “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.  I’m Stiles’ father, John Stilinski, you part of the pack?”

“Dean Winchester” The hunter replied, tilting his head to the side and answering the Sheriff’s question with an uncertain lit to his voice.  “I guess so?”

The man looked confused at Dean’s confusion and Derek wanted to cut in and announce that _of course_ Dean was pack.  Dean was his mate, therefore pack, really fucking simple.  Then again, _hunter_ , so probably not as simple for him. Oh well, Dean could just deal with it.

Luckily the Sheriff dropped it, evidently deciding that since none of the werewolves were attacking him, he was accepted here.  Turning to Stiles with one foot out the door, the man made his exit with a few parting words, “I’m on the night shift so I’ve got to run, but there’s food in the fridge and pizza in the freezer.  Goodnight all”

They echoed various goodbyes and the Sheriff left, leaving the werewolves to take over the couches and chairs that had been gathered into the Stilinski house as Scott tried to get Stiles away from Dean to make pizza.  It just looked like he was going to give up and ask Allison when there was the flapping wings sound that heralded Cas’ arrival and the angel appeared right next to Dean, startling everyone in the room save Derek and his mate.

Before Cas could say anything Stiles jumped forward, telling the world at large that he was stealing the angel with unneeded volume.  Cas tilted his head in confusion and glanced at Dean, but willingly allowed the kid to drag him over to an armchair to interrogate.  Scott rolled his eyes, but ended up taking Allison to get the pizzas while the rest of the pack found places, Isaac gravitating slowly over to Dean.

Derek had been so focused on his mate that he didn’t notice Boyd and Erica sliding up on either side of him until Erica spoke, her voice teasing.  “Nice catch”

Derek turned to find her watching Den and stopped a growl with a noncommittal grunt at the appreciative look she was giving his mate.  He knew she wouldn’t try anything, it was just him being possessive.  And proud, ‘cause she was being appreciative of someone that was his. 

After a while of sitting in silence she seemed to gather up the courage to ask, “How’d that happen?”

Blinking, Derek paused in his automatic reaction of defensiveness, surprised by the concern and lack of mocking in her tone.  But no, Erica was definitely smelling and looking concerned. Accepting the validity of her question, Derek shrugged and answered truthfully.  “Got drunk at a bar, slept together, found out he’s a hunter, left, then he saved me from a couple demons.  Decided to keep him.”

Erica laughed, relaxing fully again.  “Of course you would be the damsel in distress in the story.”

Derek snapped his teeth at her, growling.  She just quieted her laughter somewhat in response, settling back on the chair with a satisfied look on her face.  Shaking his head and following her lead in relaxing, Derek looked away and mused on his pack.  He may not have acted much like it, but he was _extremely_ happy to be back with them.  After the initial mistrusting and suspicious beginning they had been through, the pack had become really close, meeting somewhere almost everyday.  They had become an amazing family despite how flawed they were.  The loss of that closeness when the pack left for colleges and universities was probably what drove Derek into leaving to try and escape it.  Finding Dean had been the best outcome possible.

“What are you guys going to do now?” Boyd asked suddenly, watching Derek curiously.

And once again Derek shrugged.  “Not a clue, we haven’t decided yet.”

“You could stay for longer?  Just until the break’s over.”  Erica suggested, smelling hopeful.

Derek raised an eyebrow, surprised until he realized that his pack must have missed their Alpha as much as he had missed them. Glancing over to his mate who was talking to Isaac, Derek replied, “We’ll see.”

One of the biggest blocks in that plan was the fact that they hadn’t actually talked much about Dean being a part of the pack.  From the uncertain tone in which he answered the Sheriff’s question and if they stayed longer, it was definitely something that needed to be approached.  Cause Derek really did want to stay, just until the pack left like Erica had suggested, and then they could go back to hunting.  It was only the beginning of the summer now, so they’d be able to spend time here for quite a while.

“I’m going to go make sure Scott and Allison haven’t forgotten about the pizza” Erica announced, sniffing the air

When Derek mirrored the action he noticed that yes, it totally did smell like something was burning.  “Maybe the oven’s just dirty?”  He suggested, not really believing it.

Boyd let out a long suffering sigh, “We’ll go save the food then”

Looking around as they left, Derek found himself smiling, loving the comfort that came along with how the pack was.  Four of the Beta’s were in the kitchen, Stiles was grilling an intent looking Cas, and Isaac and Dean were still talking, having moved onto a conversation about cars.  Closing his eyes to half mast, Derek pondered on how he could get Dean to agree to stay, ‘cause this right here, was _pretty_ fucking wonderful. 


	8. I'm gonna knock that look off your face like life don't hold you no mystery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, I'm sorry that this took so long to finish, but I wasn't happy with it, and then today I had a huge idea and word vomited. Hope you can sift through it all and still like it.  
> The end notes are huge this time, remember to read them because they're about the sequel. READ THE END NOTES! (but only after the story)
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me through the terrible posting schedule, you guys are great and awesome and a thesaurus of words!

“So where are your wings?”  Stiles asked Cas, slightly surprised that he hadn’t asked beforehand. 

Then again, Stiles had needed to know everything else about heaven, mind reading and teleportation first. The last topic had brought him to answers about flight and now questions about wings.  Fluffy white wings that Stiles hadn’t seen yet.  Of course, they probably weren’t going to be pretty and white, because Derek had acted afraid of Cas, and the Alpha was definitely not going to be afraid of something with white fluffy wings.  Well maybe, Stiles was reserving judgment.

“Like my true form, you can’t see them without burning your eyes out.  I can however manifest them enough to show their shadows.” Cas replied, his tone layered with a touch that almost sounded like pride.

“Do it!” Stiles insisted, retracting the words after realizes how much that ad sounded like an order and that it might offend the angel.  “Or don’t.  I don’t know, if there isn’t some thing that says you aren’t allowed to.  Like if it’s against some angel custom or something.”

“It isn’t” Cas denied before Stiles could really start rambling.  Cas sat up as if to prepare himself, though the rigid way he had held himself before made the action relatively redundant.

“Okay, wait one second.” Stiles said, lifting up a hand and looking around the room.  Scott and Allison were in the kitchen, Boyd and Erica were on their way there, and Isaac and Dean were talking while Derek watched.  It would be the perfect time to scare everyone, but then again, was that actually the moral thing to do?  Hell yes it was. “Okay, go for it.”

Thunder rumbled outside suddenly and all the lights in the room sparked with flashes of lightning. Huge black shadows of wings unfurled themselves behind the sitting angel and his eyes flared with shining white light.  All in all, it was _badass_.

Everyone across the room jumped, eyes flashing as they flinched back from the display.  The pizza-sitting Beta’s ran into the room to catch the last glimpses of the wings while Stiles cried out loudly, “Dude! That’s freaking awesome!”

“I’m not at my full strength, so they’re a bit scruffy right now.” Cas muttered, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

Stiles was just about to reassure him of their awesomeness when Allison spoke up from where she was frozen in shock.  “What was that?”

“Those were Cas’ wings, weren’t they awesome?” Stiles answered excitedly, trying not to jump around happily. 

He had gotten a lot better at handling his fidgeting and ranting, but come on, he was seeing an angel’s wings again.  He hadn’t seen angel wings in like, years, _far_ longer than years.  But Cas’ wings were breathtaking, incredible, wondrous, all those lovely descriptor words that Stiles could blurt out due to having read a full thesaurus and dictionary.  Maybe more then once…  Okay, definitely more than once, there had been a time when he was younger when Scott went on holiday and Stiles had been _really_ bored.  It might’ve happened again a few times, but hey, now he had tons of fancy words to ramble with.

“A little prior warning would have been nice.”  Dean protested his enthusiasm, glancing at Derek and then back to Cas.  He looked like he couldn’t figure out whether he should be worried or amused. 

Cas nodded distantly and the pack settled back down, Scott declaring that the pizza was ready. Stiles jumped up immediately to go get a piece, but paused as he noticed Cas looking at him curiously, his head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed.

“What?” He asked, resisting the automatic reaction to check his face for something.

But the angel just tilted his head further, replying with the same kind of cryptic answer that Stiles loved—read; hated—about Deaton, their mysterious and sometimes helpful vet.  “You thought ‘again’.”

Scowling when he realized Cas had been reading his mind again, Stiles went back through when he had thought ‘again’ in the past few seconds.  “Well I only read the thesaurus three times, the dictionary was far more interesting anyway.”

Cas opened his mouth as if to expand on his point, but the sounds of Erica demanding that Scott leave some of the Tuscan six-cheese pizza for the rest of them filtered into the room and the angel shrugged stiffly as Stiles tensed.  “You should go eat.”

“Okay?” Stiles replied, drawing out the vowels.  He thought it was absolutely fantastic to be meeting an angel when he hadn’t even know they existed, but that ‘not knowing they existed’ thing meant he needed more information to have obscure conversations.

When Cas didn’t expand any further he just mirrored the angel’s shrug, getting up and going to the kitchen to make sure he got some of that cheesy goodness.

 

~*~

 

Dean hadn’t even made it to the kitchen before Derek prodded questioning through the bond, prompting the hunter to look over and notice him slipping out the back door.  From the slight nervousness mixed with happiness that filled his mate, Dean gathered that Derek didn’t want to be overheard in whatever he wanted to ask. 

“What is it?” He asked once on the porch, approaching his mate and leaning against the railing beside him. 

Derek hesitated before blurting out, “Can we stay here?”

The werewolf scowled as if he hadn’t meant to put it so bluntly, but Dean could feel the hope his mate was feeling. Tilting his head to the side, Dean debated on it rather than follow his knee-jerk reaction of denial.  The last time he had stayed anywhere with the intent of long-term it had been with Lisa and Ben, but now neither of them even remembered him.  That relationship hadn’t ended well because of the supernatural, but even if these people were already involved in it, Dean still wasn’t sure if he could really settle down.

Some of his thoughts must’ve come through in some form—or Derek just had good timing—because the werewolf elaborated, “Just until the pack leaves again in the fall.  We’ll go back to hunting again afterwards, and spend the summer here.”

Dean pondered it for a little while longer, but found he couldn’t really disagree.  Long term settling down he couldn’t stomach the thought of, but a few months with a safe house and a pseudo family?  If they managed to keep it demon and angel—save Cas—free, he would actually _really_ like to do it.  Hell, maybe he could even ask Sammy to come out for a while and meet the pack.  Hmm, no, maybe that wasn’t the best of ideas, not until he accepted Derek at least. 

“We don’t have to stay that long, just a little bit would be fine.” Derek snapped him out of his planning and Dean noticed that his mate was feeling nervous at his lack of response. 

Grinning, Dean reached around the back of his neck and rubbed at the scar Derek had left there, pleased to note the way the werewolf’s eyes were drawn directly towards his mark.  Deliberately avoiding answering straight out, Dean asked “Is there a mechanic in this place?”

This time it was Derek’s turn for a look of classic surprise, his eyes narrowing as he answered hesitantly, “Yes?”

“Awesome” Dean replied, stepping closer to Derek and winding his hands around the back of the werewolf’s neck as he placed a brief kiss on his mate’s lips.  “It’s the middle of May and we’ll be staying for four months, which means I’m getting a job.”

In the relative safety of his own mind with no angels around to overhear, Dean admitted that when Derek smiled it lit up his entire face and made the werewolf look beautifully young and carefree.  Made him look so innocent that Dean wanted to gather him up and hide him away from the pain of the world.  Make sure nothing could ever harm him again.

Moving away from his mate lest they commit a public indecency or he acted on his mushy thoughts, Dean ordered, “Now we’re going to get pizza before your wolves eat it all.”

Derek laughed, reaching out and running his hand down the side of Dean’s face. “They’re your wolves too you know.  You’re my mate, Alpha mate, so they’re your pack.”

Dean grimaced, wrinkling his nose up in uncertainty.  “Man, I barely even know them, shouldn’t there be some sort of requirement for me to be considered ‘Alpha mate’?”

The hand moved to Dean’s jaw and he allowed Derek to tilt his head up and to the side so that his mate could bite at his neck as he replied.  “Usually you would meet the pack and get to know them before we mated, but I trust you.  I know what you’re like about family, and you’re a part of this one now.  Accept the title or not, you’re mine, and I’m the Alpha.”

Snorting slightly in incredulity and exasperation, Dean cut the sound off as Derek pressed down harder with his teeth in warning.  Relenting, Dean agreed with no small amount of melodrama, “Alright fine, if you insist.”

Derek snapped his teeth shut on the hunter’s ear and Dean bit his tongue in an effort to hold back the whine that wanted to escape.  Luckily for the pursuit of not scaring the pack for life, Derek pulled back after that, his eyes dark with lust as he retorted monotonously, “I do insist.”

With that the werewolf breezed by Dean, pressing claws momentarily against his covered hip before smirking and reentering the house.  Dean cursed silently in disapproval at the teasing, but followed him anyways, ignoring the fond amusement that Derek was still sending at him.

They got into the kitchen just in time for Derek to grab the last of the meat lovers’ pizza, rolling his eyes at Dean’s mock judging look.  Dropping it and smirking, Dean grabbed some of the scattered remaining pieces, surprised by the amount that the werewolves had grabbed to eat.  Then again, Derek ate enough on his own that it would make sense for the pack to put away even more together. 

Joining the steady flow of werewolves out of the kitchen, Dean plopped himself down on the couch next to Derek, settling in and enjoying listening to the steady humm of conversation. 

“Wait, so if there are angels, does that mean that demons are real too?” Scott was asking as Stiles explained everything he had learned about the species.

Dean couldn’t hold back a snort, “Far too real”

“They possess people don’t they?”  Allison queried curiously. “I don’t know much about them, but there was some stuff in my dad’s library.”

Dean nodded in confirmation and Stiles added another question, “Woah, so what are _their_ true forms like?”

“Formless black smoke” Cas stated and Stiles frowned, evidently having hoped for a cooler answer like Cas’ had probably been about angels. 

Pure light and noise that would burn your eyes out and cause you to go deaf, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, pillar of light bigger than the ChryslerBuilding, take your pick. 

“Hey Cas, can demons possess werewolves?” Dean asked, suddenly remembering his and Derek’s discussion and caution on the topic.

“Yes, but they can’t exist with the wolf in the same body, so werewolf possessions involve more fighting and either the wolf and host die or the demon does.” Cas replied after a moment, rattling off the information like it was something he thought about every other day.  “They tend to go after humans first because the wolf usually wins in a fight for possession.  Unless they are lucky, only the stronger demons survive.”

“Great, so we need to get a bunch of anti-possession sigils made up for everyone to wear.  Just in case.”  Dean said, thinking it over.  He had a few necklaces in the impala, but not enough for the whole pack

“We haven’t had any problems with them before, so on the risk of jinxing things we don’t need to rush” Scott posed hopefully. 

“Dean has had a lot of interaction with demons and we’re staying, so we should get on the sigils relatively soon.  But just because you said that, I’m blaming you if Beacon Hills start stinking so sulfur.” Derek informed Scott, a hint of teasing belaying his scowling expression.

“You guys are staying?” Isaac blurted out, badly covered excitement lacing his tone.

“For the summer” Derek expanded, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth as he took in his Beta’s happiness with the choice

“That’s great” Erica contributed with the same failing attempt not to look pleased, moving closer to Boyd and relaxing as she started eating. 

The pack had all really missed their Alpha.  It was funny how little thought Dean had given it before, but now he considered it.  All of this type of werewolf pack had Betas and an Alpha or mated Alpha pair, they were just more stable and happy that way.  The pack had all left for higher educations, but they must’ve missed Derek some if not just as much as he had missed them.  Notably Erica, Isaac and Stiles.  The others, Scott, Boyd and Allison seemed less enthused though still happy, but Boyd didn’t talk at all and the other two appeared to have some sort of previous rivalry with Derek.  Forgotten now, but Dean could tell it had been there at one point. 

Staying with the pack would be really good for all of them.  They would get their Alpha back and vice versa, and hopefully Dean wouldn’t mess up being Alpha mate and whatever that entailed too badly.  Not even being self-depreciating, tell Dean a year ago that he was going to join up with a werewolf pack and look forward to living with them for months, and he would’ve run through the whole holy water and rock salt routine.  But now, now this could actually become something, and Dean definitely didn’t want to ruin it by not knowing how it worked.  For instance Derek had muttered something about Dean using Alpha voice when the hunter ordered Stiles around to get stuff to heal the werewolf, there was so much he didn’t know.

But Derek would help him through figuring it all out if he needed it.  Dean could live with a group of werewolves and mostly avoid hunting for a few months if the werewolf wanted him to.  If he could find a mechanic or something that needed help then the getting a job part would just be an added bonus.  After purgatory, getting Cas out and then practically non stop hunting with Derek, a breather would be nice.  Especially since it was one with werewolves and bound not to be a total break from all things supernatural.

“What about you Walking-Bestiary?” Stiles asked after a comfortable silence broken only by the sounds of eating and Dean’s thinking.

Cas looked up since it was clear who the young adult was talking to and he tilted his head to the side.  “My name is Castiel or Cas.”

“Not Hot-Wings either then?” Dean couldn’t resist teasing, making a reference to what the vampire Benny called the angel in purgatory.

Cas just glared at Dean, turning back and answering Stiles without dignifying the teasing with an answer. “I will be here occasionally if Dean is here, but mostly I’ll be gone.”

“Flying around then?  I hope you realize that any time I want to know anything I will be praying to you.”  Stiles’ reply came in a warning tone.

“Of course” The searching look Cas gave the young adult was one Dean knew well, but as Cas usually reserved it for creatures he didn’t know much about or other anomalies, it was worrisome here.

Derek pushed Dean’s knee with his own, questioning the hunter without words.  Shaking his head in reply, he went back to watching Cas and Stiles.  There was something going on there that neither Cas nor Stiles got—from the way the two of them spoke in the forest to now—and with the angel that was rarely a good thing.

“So you can hear prayers?” Boyd asked curiously, like he was trying to imagine it.

“Yes, ones that are made in my name” Cas answered, hesitating as if waiting for someone else to answer.  The pause was only noticeable to someone who knew him well, but Dean frowned in concern.

“Isn’t that irritating?” Allison inquired, having evidently followed the same line of thought that made Boyd grimace slightly after asking his question.

“For the wider known angels when they were still alive it might’ve been.”  Cas shifted uncomfortably as he replied.  Dean could sympathize.  Well, not with the dead angels, they had mostly been giant douches—with the exception of Gabriel and Balthazar, who had still been giant douches, but not necessarily ones Dean had wanted dead—no, but he _could_ feel something for Cas.  Fighting with your kin was hard, no matter how the relationship was going.

“But with the whole ‘angel radio’ thing you must’ve all been used to a lot of noise.”  Stiles sat forward and argued as if ready to debate a point.

That considering look was back on Cas’ face as he countered, “Angel radio can be tuned out.”

“Ya, but that sucks” Stiles grimaced  “So not fun””

The tone of the room seemed to shift with his words and Stiles frowned in worry, confused along with everyone else.

“Neither myself, Dean, nor Derek have even mentioned angel radio since meeting you, and we’ve especially not spoken of how awful it is to be cut off.” Cas stated flatly, finally giving them a glimpse of what was bugging him.

Stiles blinked in shock, realization crossing his face as he attempted to figure out just _how_ he knew about it. “Nope, I’m sure you’ve mentioned it, or said something, or maybe I heard it from somewhere?”

“You’ve also seen angel wings before, you thought about it when I showed you mine.” This time it was Cas on the attack, starting a verbal battle that there was only one side to.

Deciding to hopefully cut things short, Dean asked warily, “Cas, what the fuck’s up?”

Cas met Deans eyes, his head untilted for once as he instead practiced the lip biting habit he picked up from the hunter.  Turning back to Stiles, Cas answered softly, his voice picked up easily even without werewolf hearing in the frozen silence.

“Stiles is a fallen nephilim”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total sequel material!! Okay, so I've got this great idea for a really big sequel that will span the summer and include tons of characters from both shows. New big baddie, though I won't say much--because I don't want to spoil anything and cause I don't know yet--but it'll probably tie into canon. A bit, it'll still be canon divergence though, do remember that.  
> Anywho, Dean/Derek will still be the main point of the story, but expect more POV's and maybe more pairings. Speaking on more pairings because I'm overtired and rambling, I have no idea what happened with Stiles and Cas, or if anything even did happen. It's really weird, 'cause I never thought about that pairing, but now that I think about it I don't know if I don't want it.... Comments on that note would be great. Even if you don't like the story or want to comment on it, please tell me what you think of that idea. It may not happen, but it may, just as a warning. Who really knows.  
> Umm, what I meant to say in the last chapter is that Stiles being a fallen nephilim will not be the focus. It will however be a big part of the story, with lots of explanations and all that I've thought out but not put into legible words for you guys yet. It'll be a thread of the main story.  
> And what I meant to say in this little end note is that I will be writing the story and editing it and all before I post it--mostly. 'Cause that's actually a good thing for me to do that I noticeably didn't on this story. The mostly is because I'll probably post it before it's completely completed, but most of it including ending is written. I don't actually know how it's going to end, now that i think about it...  
> Okay! Time-wise. The break in between World at Large and my last big story--Let's Try This Again, 'cause Eyes of The Universe kinda sucks baring one chapter--was one month and a bit long, so expect that. *THE SEQUEL WILL NOT BE OUT FOR AT LEAST A MONTH AND A HALF*. So like, end of September stuff. But I will/may be writing those little oneshots I had planned out during that time, never fear. Just when the big story gets too 'big story' for me to continue writing it.  
> But ya, I think that's actually all. If there is anything I've missed and you either telepathically notice or just want to know, comment with your question.  
> Seriously, I absolutely adore all you people. Especially the ones I know about due to commenting, you people following along were probably the only reason I didn't just rush or scrap this story. You are all great people, even you who didn't comment or leave kudos. And now I shall stop rambling and taking up so much space. So long for now people!! We will hopefully meet again!


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